When did it happen? When did I become my mother?
I’ll tell you…
It happened this morning at Giant Eagle. At the exact moment I decided that tuna noodle casserole sounded like a fine option for dinner this evening.
What’s next? A minivan? A “my kid’s smarter than your kid” bumper sticker? Mom-jeans?
Oh well, at least it’s not Tuna Helper…
Sorry, Mom. You know I love you…and your jeans…and your tuna helper.
Kade and Liv had a discussion about private parts during bathtime last night. I think it might be time to separate them, which means more work for me and more work for our hopeless hot water tank…frankly, I don’t think either of us can handle it right now.
Kade: “Don’t touch that. It’s my penis and it’s private.”
Me: “Liv Ellen. Hands to yourself.”
Liv: “Where’s mine?”
Kade: “You don’t have a penis. You have a vagina.”
Liv: “Ha ha ha. I have a bagina.”
They proceed to go about their splashing, giggling business until…
Kade: Leans in with his mouth open and says “Liv can I give you one true love’s kiss?”
Me: “For pete’s sake, Kade. Get off of your sister!” (Wondering if I should worry about his obvious attempt at open-mouthed kissing)
Liv: “Mama. What’s my private called again?”
Me: “A vagina.”
Liv: Singing…”bagina, bagina, bagina.”
Me: Sigh.
I spent an entire afternoon fighting with our phone company yesterday. I have spoken with them 9 times in the last two months in a desperate attempt to get something that seems so simple (yet for some reason is so completely impossible) straightened out. Each phone call has lasted from 30 minutes to 1.5 hours….no, I am not exaggerating. Kade and I built a pipe cleaner christmas tree and colored and cut out over 30 shrinky dink ornaments during that December marathon phone call.
Anyway, I finally got it worked out….I think.
I also scrubbed all the baseboards in my much-larger-than-I-ever-realized bedroom. Why, you ask? Because my freaking dog has decided that going outside in freezing, blowing snow and cold sucks and he’d much rather use my room as a toilet. Lovely. Nothing says romance like the lingering scent of dog urine…
I’m sporting ridiculously high blood sugars again (260 range) after changing out my infusion set this morning, but I am too cheap to switch it out again so I’m riding this out for a few hours to see if they start to come down (three boluses with no drop should be enough evidence, but these things are plated in gold and my $2500 deductible is looming over my head).
I’m so over winter. I’m dying for CityFresh to start up so I can stop subjecting my family to the weekly dinner rotation they’ve become so grudgingly accustomed to. I’d even smile at an entire share of greens and if you know me, you know just how much I love greens (I know, I know…they are good for you and when someone who knows what they are doing prepares them for me I actually like them, but when I cook them they just come out bitter and soggy).
Kyle’s going to bring home a little treat for us tonight since we live in Cleveland and it’s cold and grey and February. What better way to battle winter depression in Cleveland than spending a Friday night with single-malt scotch, guitar hero and the one you love?
Speaking of scotch and my undying love for it. Apparently, I’m an anomaly. Who’d have guessed?
1. She proudly tells people that her name is Liv. Not Olivia.
2. She makes friends everywhere we go. The girl’s social network is larger than mine.
3. She sucks on the first two fingers of her right hand. It’s gross, but absolutely adorable.
4. She devours books and just like her mama, she could happily spend an entire day reading.
5. She is strong-willed and independent. I’m not looking forward to the teenage years.
6. She gives the world’s best hugs.
7. She could sing before she could talk.
8. She has her daddy’s eyes. They are warm, deep and brown.
9. Her favorite color is pink.
10. One of her habits is to pluck her eyelids with her fingers. The sound is akin to nails on a chalkboard and elicits the same reaction.
11. She will smile at me when I’m scolding her, which is an effective technique to get me to stop.
12. She will spontaneously start dancing…even without music playing.
13. She knows when you need to hear the words “I love you.”
14. She hates riding in shopping carts.
15. She was a born vegetarian. It’s very difficult to get her to try meat, let alone eat it.
16. She has never acted her age.
17. She has made me believe in princesses, fairies, and whimsy all over again.
18. She has a great throwing arm.
19. She loves having tea parties, but prefers to pretend that it’s coffee (must be her mama’s influence).
20. She will carry on a conversation with anyone and anything that will listen.
21. She is a genuinely happy child.
22. She has a very old soul.
23. She doesn’t think she’s “too little” to do anything.
24. She would snack all day if you let her.
25. She is madly in love with her big “bubba.”
1. He didn’t open his eyes until almost two days after he was born. I’m exaggerating, but it certainly felt like two days…
2. He has a love/hate relationship with his favorite things; i.e. Feel Good Inc., Halloween, Coraline.
3. He has rhythm. Seriously. The boy can dance.
4. He has mad artistic skills. I’m not exaggerating when I say that he can draw better than I can, which isn’t saying much, but he’s 4.
5. As a toddler, when given the choice between ice cream and broccoli, he would choose broccoli. Now…not so much.
6. He loves to wear costumes. It doesn’t stop there, though. He also gets into character. It’s like living with Daniel Day-Lewis.
7. He doesn’t forget anything.
8. He tends to over-react. I have no idea where he gets that one from.
9. He is still attached to Ted.
10. He has his father’s hands and feet. And hairline.
11. He has my eyes.
12. He’s a sucker for holidays. His favorites (in order) are: Halloween, Hanukkah, and Christmas.
13. He is serious, thoughtful, sincere and eerily beyond his years.
14. He is a slave to our daily routine. Therefore, I am a slave to our daily routine.
15. His favorite place is the Natural History Museum.
16. He has eaten raw octopus and loved it.
17. He is getting better at using chopsticks.
18. He has a very sensitive soul.
19. He is resistant to change.
20. When he gets frustrated it’s like he’s holding a mirror in front of my face.
21. He can run. Fast.
22. He has a keen interest in many things, from insects, to planets, dinosaurs, superheroes, and the human body.
23. It takes him at least 10 minutes to warm up to you.
24. He is the only grandson on both sides of our families.
25. He loves his sister.
1. I bite my nails.
2. My favorite foods always involve pig, but I can’t stand baked ham.
3. I miss Pittsburgh.
4. My children look nothing like me and it makes me sad.
5. I assume that everyone listens to college radio.
6. My husband really is my best friend (gag me…I know).
7. I could spend an entire day just reading.
8. I don’t think that I will ever run another marathon again (half-marathons, definitely).
9. I desperately miss my sister to the point that I nearly cry when I think about her. I always imagined us living close and raising our kids together.
10. I have been dealing with diabetes for over 2 years and I am still afraid of needles.
11. I never leave the house without mascara on.
12. I would love to go back to school, but don’t want to take out the loans to pay for it.
13. I have seen (and heard) ghosts.
14. I have a difficult time letting things go.
15. I love watching TV. In fact, I stopped playing guitar hero because it was interfering with all of my shows.
16. I fantasize about vampires.
17. I am a terrible driver.
18. I haven’t worn a bra *regularly* in over 5 years.
19. I am bored with my hair and am seriously considering bleaching it white.
20. I would like to write a children’s book.
21. I feel younger now than I did when I was 20, but I am still very emotional about turning 30 this year.
22. I drink 12-year Glenlivet neat. I love the look on male bartender’s faces when I order it.
23. I rode in an elevator with Alan Faneca and didn’t even have the nerve to say “Go, Steelers.” (of course this was when he played for them).
24. Thursday is my favorite day of the week.
25. I am not tagging anyone because everyone I know has already done this.
Over a week ago, I bought a potty seat for Liv that has pictures of Disney princesses on it. I also purchased a package of underwear with 7 pairs inside…one for each princess. I held on to my potty-training arsenal, giving Liv and myself a break with plans to whip out the goods this week, causing my daughter to shriek in delight and immediately shun all things diaper-related.
Well that was the plan until Sunday rolled around. I brought her new seat upstairs and she carried it around the house and even asked to use it. Score. She’d already seen the underpants because I had washed them and put them in her drawer, but she seemed pretty anxious for the chance to wear them. I told her that they were off limits until she started using the big potty (because everyone needs a little incentive). I noticed that she only had about 4 pull-ups in her cupboard so I made a note to pick up more at the store. And this is where the plan begins to unravel.
I got home on Sunday evening and opened the new box of pull-ups to find that they re-designed them. Inside were pink, over-priced diapers that had Cinderella, Ariel and Snow White on them with butterflies, flowers and hearts. Liv was beyond thrilled at the change. The novelty of her current purple, over-priced diapers that had Cinderella, Ariel and Jasmine on them with flowers and no hearts or butterflies had worn off. These training pants trumped everything. I was pissed.
Then I realized the genius that is Kimberly-Clark and Huggies. They don’t want your kid to move on to underwear. Diapers are money. They would love it if we all went crazy astronaut and started strapping on adult diapers for our long morning commutes, weekend road-trips and all night drinking binges. I’m not falling prey to their marketing tactics (okay…I’ve already fallen prey, but dammit I’m doing something about it). I’m going to go out and find the plainest, simplest, ugliest pair of training pants for my “everything must be pink and pretty” daughter. Then I’m going to dangle her adorable Ariel underpants in front of her and hope that she goes for the carrot.
Take that, Kimberly. And you too, Clark.
Kade didn’t have school last Friday (teacher in-service day), so my mom offered to have the kids over for the weekend (it’s like she knows when I’m about to lose it and steps up to rescue me…must be a mom thing). She came up to spend the morning with us last Thursday. She helped me get the kids ready for school and came to the preschool with us. Kade was so excited to introduce his grandma to all his friends and teacher. I don’t think he was too thrilled with the idea that she was going to be across the hall with Liv and I at Liv’s Stay and Play class, though. Grandma got to meet some of my friends, participate in circle time and helped make a lantern with Liv to celebrate the Lunar New Year. We all went to lunch together and my mom loaded her car up with what looked like a week’s worth of stuff and drove off with both of my kids for the weekend.
I sat down on the couch, noticed how absolutely quiet it was, and immediately had to turn on some music because it was freaking me out. Of course, my borderline-medication-worthy anxiety prevented me from relaxing until I got the phone call they were safely in Sandusky. Then I took a BATH. Truthfully, it wasn’t a great idea because I just sat there thinking about how much it needed to be cleaned, but the glass of wine that followed quickly mellowed me out.
I had the brilliant idea to wear heels since a) I wanted to wear some really cute jeans that only fit if I’m 3 inches off the ground (they were hand me downs) b) I wanted to feel sexy and c) I never have a reason to put anything other than “sensible” shoes on my feet (heels and playdates just don’t go well together). Kyle came home and whisked me out the door for our “date.” I took one step outside and fell flat on my face. Seriously.
After limping to the car, we were off to Shaker Square with no plans other than a need to eat. A new Moroccan restaurant, Darna, looked warm and inviting and reminded me of our old Pittsburgh days at “The Road to Karakesh,” which was one of our favorite dining spots and had the yummiest tagines. Darna didn’t quite have the selection of tagine I was hoping for, but everything we ate was very good (see below for example of slow-cooked goodness).
Actually, their braised vegetables ranked just as highly as the appetizers, entrees, and desserts we sampled. And if we had been there on a Saturday, we would have been entertained by belly-dancers…boo that we went on a boring Thursday.
We woke ourselves up with some Moroccan coffee and stopped at the brand-spanking new wine bar, Grotto, before making it home. No review yet because it had literally just opened so I’ll give it another shot before judging the place.
On Friday I was at the preschool all morning doing some busy work to prepare for the upcoming open house, so I spent the entire afternoon running errands in record time given that I didn’t have to unstrap a 2-year-old in and out of a car every stop I made. By the time Kyle got home from work and I got home from big-box hell, we were both in the mood for a burger and scotch beer.
I have memories of the best burger I’ve ever eaten, which happens to have been almost a year ago, from the Tremont Taphouse. However, it was devoured after running a half-marathon in Pittsburgh, shopping for hours at Ikea, and driving the two hours there and back all in the same day. So, I’ve been nervous to try it again in fear that the memory of the most-delicious-burger-ever would be tainted in some way.
It came and yes, there is an egg on top of it, and yes, I knew I was in heaven, and yes, despite a rather messy eating experience, it lived up to the memory and I was happy and content until….
The mussels with homemade fries, gorgonzola and bacon came along and my heart was forever changed. Honestly, I wanted to pick up the bowl and drink the broth after Kyle and I had inhaled the nearly 2 pounds of mussels. Now I dream of mollusks when I close my eyes at night…
In our fog of bliss, we stopped at the Purple Shamrock on the way home and enjoyed cheap drinks, good company, and even better music (gotta love a place with MGMT on the jukebox).
I felt like Kyle and I were dating again. We talked, listened to each other, and realized just how much we love to be together.
Saturday morning I dined on Tommy’s while catching up with a friend I haven’t seen since Thanksgiving. She acted as my pseudo-therapist as I blubbered about the mess in my head. I’m thinking she should consider a second career since she managed to leave me with some really good advice about how to re-focus.
Kyle and I bummed around doing things that the kids always hate…like window-shopping, and anticipated our upcoming night of fun.
Our evening began with a mind-numbingly delicious dinner at L’Albatros (Kyle did the website). We’ve eaten at the bar once, but it was only a sampling of appetizers and pizza so I was really looking forward to an entire meal. It started with these…
I could have drunk the mignonette sauce by the glass…it was that good.
Then we moved on to these little beauties…
I’ve always shunned escargot served without their shells, but this presentation is now my new favorite.
I stole Kyle’s pied de cochon (which translates into pig’s feet, but it’s so much nicer to refer to it in the French form) and it was one of the most complex, rich, delicious things I have ever eaten. The pigs feet were pulled from the bone and prepared in sausage form with spices, etc.
Needless to say, I was punch-drunk from the fabulous meal and could have easily gone home a happy woman.
But the night was still young and we had a date to rock out with the Black Keys at the Agora.
I’ll let Kyle review the concert because he did such a masterful job of it on his blog. Their sound haunts me and always leaves me wanting more. It was an experience I won’t soon forget.
I don’t think we could imagine a more perfect day. That is until Sunday came along…
The Steelers then went on to make history and win, which was like the cherry on the sundae. I’m not sure if the victory champagne tasted better than the toast we had for President Obama a few months ago, but it’s nice to have reasons to celebrate.
Life is good…very, very good. Sometimes it takes a recap, some pictures, and a video to bring it all into perspective.
A big thank you to anyone who managed to bear with me to the end of this post. It is marathon in proportion…but so was the weekend.
I read through my old blog posts last week, in search of what’s been making me unravel lately. I was a crying mess as I remembered the woman I used to be, and realized that I was mourning my life before diabetes.
The past two years has strained me. I think I was hiding behind running, telling myself that the endless miles I was putting in were keeping me healthy. My a1c has never dropped below 7%, so the running isn’t enough and to put it bluntly…I’m far from healthy. I spend a few hours of every day with pounding headaches and my mood is so unstable that I wonder if my children are scared of me because they never know what to expect. I know that Kyle never knows what’s going to greet him when he walks through the door, and I’m willing to bet there are days that he’d just rather not come home.
It’s so frustrating. My blood sugars are either one of two extremes…very high or very low, and the nice “all is well” in-between is almost non-existent. I tell myself that my fluctuating numbers are expected when trying to juggle a household with two children under the age of 5. Seriously…I barely have time to shower everyday…how can I possibly keep a log of my blood sugars? The excuses aren’t cutting it anymore.
I used this weekend to try to figure some things out. I talked to Kyle, I talked to a very good friend, and I played with some of my usual diabetic routine stuff. Thankfully, the numbers are balancing out since I’ve started putting my infusion set on my lower back area (I think I’ve developed too much scar tissue on my stomach and just ran out of room). My friend gave me some wonderful advice about how to focus on what’s really important, and Kyle…well he reminded me why he does come home every night and why he always will.
Diabetes is a systemic disease. When my numbers are off, everything about me is affected. The problem is that it not only affects me…it affects everyone around me and that is so hard to come to terms with. I recently met a woman who is the adult child of a type-1 diabetic. She grew up with a mother who never controlled her diabetes, who kept her numbers so low that she would have episodes of unconsciousness on a regular basis. She still lives in fear every day that she will receive a call that her mother has hurt herself or someone else during a hypoglycemic episode. She told me that the best thing I can do for my children is to get control of my diabetes.
What a wake-up call…
When you live in Cleveland it’s important to focus on the positive.
For example: When buried in a ridiculous amount of snow that forces you to stay home with two children under the age of 5 for an entire day, put on the warmest clothing you own and take advantage of it.
My children had no problem venturing outdoors.
They didn’t even mind the relentless snowflakes soaking their absolutely adorable faces.
He’s knee deep in new snow, but there’s another good 6 inches beneath that. It’s a frozen solid rock under there and his 4-year-old strength couldn’t penetrate it.
Don’t worry, Liv. I didn’t forget about you. Standing over there in all your pink, snowy cuteness. That cheesy smile is priceless.
My devil attempting to create an angel. Oh, the irony.
Poor kid was stranded.
Alright, Mama. We are cold. This really isn’t fun anymore. Remember, we didn’t choose Cleveland…you and Dad did.
My baby girl in all her resourcefulness. I walked in to her warming herself in front of the space heater after our foray into the winter wonderland. She kept saying, “I’m coldie, coldie.”
I then proceeded to spoil their appetites for lunch by indulging them with hot cocoa chock full of marshmallows. Have you ever played in the snow in your life without the promise of hot cocoa?
