Author Archives: Cindy

the night visitor

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For the past four nights in a row, Catie has woken up somewhere around 3 or 4 a.m., and climbed into bed with us. She isn’t asking for milk or a diaper change or anything, she just scurries her tiny self in between me and Dave and settles herself in. The other night she didn’t even announce that she had come into the room, I just felt her hand on my calf as she hoisted herself up onto the bed. Then she plopped her head on the pillow next to mine, wrapped her little arm around my neck, and said “Bwanket!” I pulled the covers up over her and she went straight to sleep.

Here’s the thing: I know it’s a bad idea to let your toddler sleep in bed with you. I know. If we give her an inch, she’ll take a mile; she’ll never sleep in her own bed for the rest of her life, blah blah blah… But you know, I’m finding it difficult to be a hard-liner on this issue. For one thing, she really isn’t disrupting my sleep that badly. Sure, it takes a few minutes for me to readjust myself around her and go back to sleep, but it isn’t like she’s keeping me awake for hours in the middle of the night.

The other thing is that I’m pretty sure I know the reason why this has suddenly become a trend. She’s not an oblivious little baby anymore, she’s noticing all the boxes around the house. And we’ve been talking to her about how we’re going to move to a new house. I keep telling her how someday soon, we’re going to move to a new house, but it’ll be fun because Mommy & Daddy will be there with her, and the kitty-cats will be there, and all of her toys and books will be there too. Way to make it sound easy and harmless, right?

Um, not so much, as it turns out. Last Thursday, I had to pick her up from daycare and then go to the new house to meet up with Dave and our realtor for the house inspection. When I picked her up, I told her we were going to our new house. We walked in, and she said, “My toys?” She searched the whole house, and when she saw that her toys weren’t there, she was more than a little distraught. Oops. Way to clarify things, Mom. I tried to explain that her toys were still at our old house because we haven’t moved yet, but I think I just confused her even more.

So my theory is that the sleep interruptions have a lot to do with the fact that she’s feeling a little insecure and stressed out. And yes, I suppose I could be harsher about it, and do the SuperNanny technique of returning her to her own bed, no matter how many times she tries to climb in bed with us. But I feel bad for her, so I’m taking the easy way out. I’m also pretty sure that this behavior will start up again after we move, so I don’t see the point in going all Sleep Nazi now, only to have to do it all over again in a month.

Besides, I can’t say that I hate waking up with this right next to me.

napping (with friends)

Sure, I miss having a pillow to myself, but eh, I think I can manage this for a little while.

tea, a drink with jam and bread

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Ok, I didn’t get a video of Catie singing the alphabet song, but I did get this.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ItjtLfsBSD4

Since she’s starting to like The Sound of Music, I showed her this video of the people dancing to “Do Re Mi” at the train station in Antwerp, Belgium, and she absolutely loved it. We must’ve watched it at least five or six times this morning.

For the record, I filmed it early this morning, which is why her hair is so messy. She was still in her PJ’s with a major case of bedhead.

Also, last night we went to see Rhythmicity, a local band that does African/Cuban tribal drumming, who we’ve seen a few times now, but I finally remembered to bring my video camera this time.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7EZptEMxj54

The band always brings a big basket of small rhythm instruments for the kids to play with. Catie loves them. You can also see Elizabeth and Cat (with Austin in his sling) dancing in the background. The girls always have so much fun at these drum shows.

And no, I don’t know why Catie grabs her own butt halfway through the video. Maybe she farted? Two year-olds are a mystery.

random stuff that is probably not nearly as funny to anyone else

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Since I think the mood is in dire need of lightening around here:

1. This post of Sally’s from 5 years ago. Read the comments. Had me laughing until tears ran down my face.

2. This video, no matter how many times I see it.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lj-x9ygQEGA

3. Oh, and while I’m linking videos, let’s really hope that this isn’t the house we’re buying. (Thanks, Angie. I love this one.)

4. Catie, who in the past couple of days:
4a. Has started trying to sing the alphabet song, and OMG I have to get a video of that, because it’s hilarious.

4b. Was really good at the gym’s nursery while I worked out yesterday, so as a reward we went to the pool afterward. We haven’t been to the YMCA’s pool yet this year, I forgot how nice it is. They have a “splash zone” which is basically just an area of fountains that shoot water out of the ground in various formations. Watching Catie run around sticking her hands and feet in the water was so much fun. (She never jumped into the fountains, she’s way too cautious for that. And she got pretty mad when she stuck her hand in one fountain and it splashed water in her eyes.)

4c. Bashed me in the face with the back of her head during a particularly overzealous toddler bounce and split my top lip open. When I told her that she hurt me, she wanted to kiss it to make it better, which was sweet, but my lip was gushing blood at the time, so, NO. I let her kiss my lip when I finally got the bleeding under control, and she said, “All better now?” I said, “Thank you, sweetie, but no, it still hurts.” She said, “No. It all better now.” Well, thanks for setting me straight then. Guess there’s no need for this ice pack I’m holding to my face.

4d. Got irritated with me for getting too interactive during our bedtime routine. We lie in her bed together and read books, and the Curious George alphabet book has a line about “C is for a crab with two clamping claws,” and I tried to do a crab claw and tickle her tummy. Usually she thinks that’s funny, but I guess she was particularly tired and grumpy on this night, because she pushed me away, sighed exasperatedly and said, “Mommy, go to bed.” Nice.

4e. Has started calling me “Mom” as well as “Mommy.” It’s cute because using “Mom” makes her sound like a grown-up, but I thought I’d be Mommy for a few more years. I’m not sure I like it so much.

4f. Sang “Do-Re-Mi” in the car this morning on the way to daycare. I didn’t realize that she knew all the words, but she does – complete with holding her hand to her chest during, “me, a name I call MYSELF.” It was so cute I almost cried.

because sometimes there IS such a thing as a geographical cure

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I mentioned last week that we had a visit from my friend Brittany. What I didn’t fill in was a little of her backstory. Brittany shared her story on a website called Violence Unsilenced, which provides an outlet for survivors of domestic abuse to tell their stories. If you don’t know Brittany’s story, go read. I’ll wait.

Ok, then. Now you probably understand why I want to go back in time about 20 years to rescue toddler Brittany and to kick her father’s ass. Actually, I’d be willing to kick his ass in present day too. Doesn’t matter. But more than anything, I wish I could spare her some of the pain and suffering that she’s experienced.

Here’s the rest of the story: Brittany currently lives with her mom, three doors down from the father who abused her. He continues to be a threatening presence in her life to this day, and she lives in a constant state of fear and anxiety. It’s a completely toxic situation, and she needs to get the hell out of there.

The problem is, despite having a job (two or three jobs, really, if you count the work she does at summer camps with special-needs kids), Brittany doesn’t have the money to move. And like a lot of abuse survivors, she is not the most adept when it comes to asking for help. So yesterday, Brittany’s friend Aman enlisted my help to set up a PayPal account on her behalf, without telling her about it. Well, actually, he set up the PayPal account. All I did was send direct messages to every single one of Brittany’s friends on Twitter who I thought might help us out.

And you know, the Twitter community is pretty amazing. Aman opened the account in the morning, and by yesterday evening, we had already raised over $500. And I had several emails from people pledging to give money as soon as they get their next paycheck. We decided to go ahead and tell Brittany about the account, since it was obviously going to be way too big a deal to keep a secret much longer. She was pretty shocked, and I think I might’ve made her cry a little bit. (It didn’t help that we were on a video chat on Skype, and I had Catie in my lap, and I was having Catie say things like, “Britty, move here!” Manipulative? Moi? Never!)

If any of you want to help Brittany out, the link to the PayPal account is . Even if it’s just a few dollars, it all helps. I just want to help my friend get to a place where she can finally feel safe, and where she can start to heal. Because absolutely nobody should ever live in that kind of fear.

Father's Day

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I’ll be honest, Father’s Day is maybe not the biggest holiday in our house. Neither is Mother’s Day. We tend to make a bigger deal out of birthdays and Christmas than random Hallmark-sanctioned holidays.

Still, as far as Father’s Days go, I think Dave’s had a pretty good one. He got up early and went for a 7-mile hike while I took Catie out to run errands. The plan is to relax this afternoon and then go out for dinner tonight. So yeah, it’s a pretty good day.

Also, I decided to play around with this new Smilebox feature on Hallmark.com that lets you create photo collage e-cards. This is the one I sent to Dave earlier.

Click to play this Smilebox greeting:
Create your own greeting - Powered by Smilebox
Make a Smilebox greeting

I also created one for my dad. (Yeah, same card. I know. I’m lazy.)

Click to play this Smilebox greeting:
Create your own greeting - Powered by Smilebox
Make a Smilebox greeting

I’m also thinking a lot about Mike today; I cannot imagine how hard this day is for him without Maddie. The Room 704 girls wrote a really beautiful post for Mike; I don’t think there’s anything I can add to that.

I hope all you dads out there have a happy Father’s Day.

how I rock Friday nights these days

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This morning we had an appointment with our mortgage lender. We were already pre-qualified for our mortgage, but there was a lot of paperwork we needed to sign to make our application official. I woke up early and headed to the bathroom to start putting on my make-up (a process that is so. much. easier. without toddler interference).

Suddenly, the door opened and there was Catie, with her hair in her eyes, and whining, “Mommy, milk pwease!” This made me realize two things: 1) she is getting really efficient with opening doors (a relatively new trick; must remember to lock doors in situations that demand privacy, if you know what I’m talking about and I think you do), and 2) she’s figured out that she can climb out of her big-girl bed. Crap. Oh well, it was nice while it lasted.

It took a while, but eventually we all got out the door and over to the mortgage lender’s office. I felt bad for Catie, because I know that not much in life could be more boring for her, but I had brought a bag full of distractions: toys, books, Color Wonder markers & paper. Overall she was pretty good; she got a little whiny, but she did way better than I expected. Toward the end of the appointment, the guy left the room to photocopy all of the paperwork so we’d have copies for our records. While he was gone, I put Catie in one of the swivel chairs in his office and spun her around. She laughed and laughed, and thought it was so much fun. At least, she did for a while, until she got dizzy and took a flying leap out of the chair, and face-planted on the floor. Ouch. I had to carry her outside to calm her down, and the secretary brought her some M&M’s, which was very sweet.

Since Catie had been so good at the mortgage appointment, afterward we went to McDonald’s and let her have some chicken McNuggets and play in the indoor (read: air-conditioned) playground. She had an absolute blast running all over the place, I think we were there for about an hour. On the way home, both Dave and Catie fell asleep in the car. It was only maybe 10 or 15 minutes, but unfortunately, that meant that when we got home, Catie was all refreshed and ready to go. No more nap. Oof. Somebody kill me now.

So, this afternoon has mostly been comprised of whining and meltdowns (on Catie’s part, not mine, although believe me I was tempted). I gave her a bath around 4 p.m., then we came downstairs and had an early dinner. She asked for “milk and book” afterward, which is our bedtime routine: I lie down with her in her big-girl bed, and we read books together while she has her sippy cup of milk. Honestly, that’s like my favorite part of the day, even if it does mean that I can now recite “The Cat in the Hat” from memory. Tonight, though, Catie fell asleep while I was still reading to her. She was officially out before 6 p.m. Hell yeah. Mommy FTW!

So, since I am old and lame, I am going to bed early for the first time in weeks. And I cannot begin to tell you how excited I am about that. I know it’s Friday night, and the Cindy from 10 years ago would not even recognize this version of myself. But honestly? I don’t care. I am so looking forward to sleep, glorious sleep.

Now, let’s just hope that Catie stays in her bed all night. Fingers crossed!

Under Contract

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About the house thing. We made an offer on house #2. To help jog your memory, it’s this one:

House #2

This is the house that while I was walking around looking at it, I felt a lump in my throat and I almost started to cry. It’s perfect. It feels like home to me. And unlike every other house we’d seen up to that point, I couldn’t find a single thing that I didn’t like about this house.

Plus, there’s the kitchen. Oh man, let me tell y’all about the kitchen. This kitchen basically sold the house, as far as I’m concerned.

kitchen

The photo is a little blurry and doesn’t really do it justice, but that kitchen is amazing. It’s freaking enormous. I can imagine us having huge dinner parties with our friends in this house. It’s so beautiful and open and inviting. I opened the (double!) doors to the pantry, and Dave said the look on my face was as though I was suddenly bathed in a warm soft light while a chorus of angels started to sing. It’s fantastic. I want to make sweet love to that kitchen. (And no, I don’t know how the mechanics of that would work. Shut up. Don’t crush my dream.)

And look! It even has a little built-in workstation.

kitchen workstation (and Catie)
Cute toddler (who apparently has a mouthful of animal crackers) sold separately. Weird shadow brought to you courtesy of Cindy’s Crap Photography Skills. Get your thumb away from the lens, moron. Jeez.

There’s also the backyard, which is perfect for us: it’s flat, it’s shady, and it’s big enough for a playset. And besides the deck, it’s also got a really nice little patio area underneath a cluster of trees in the yard.

backyard

Love it. It’s just so pretty.

So we made a pretty low-ball offer, and they gave us a fair counter-offer (they met us more than halfway). We agreed, signed the paperwork, and we’re now officially under contract.

The sad part is that the house is being sold because of a divorce. The first time we saw the house, it was obvious that there was only one guy living there, so we wondered if maybe he was gay. (For the stereotypical reasons: the place was immaculately decorated and absolutely spotless.) But then our realtor noticed some wedding china in the dining room, and when Dave opened a cabinet, he saw several “how to save your marriage” self-help books. Sure enough, when our realtor talked to the other agent, the house belongs to a (currently, but not for much longer) married couple. So it’s sad, but it doesn’t appear that they have any kids, which I guess makes it slightly less tragic. And they’re obviously working together on selling the house, because they got back to us REALLY fast when we made our offer.

My sister suggested that I need to burn some sage in the house when we move in, to get rid of all of the bad karma floating around in there due to the divorce. I have no idea how to burn sage or what you’re supposed to do to get rid of bad marriage juju in a house, but I’ll look into it. Isn’t there some religion where they’ll bless your home? I can’t remember if that’s a Catholic thing or if it’s Hindu. (Because, you know, the two religions are so very similar, it makes total sense that I’d get their customs confused. Er?)

I am completely scared, and I’m not exactly sure why. Maybe it’s because we’re voluntarily putting ourselves in debt – even though we got a really good deal on the house because of the economy. Maybe it’s because this is the first time I’ve ever been involved in a house-purchasing decision. (Dave already owned our house in Washington when he and I first met.) I think it’s also because this house is so beautiful, and so perfect, and I’m afraid this is all too good to be true, so I’m waiting for something to come along and blow up in our faces. But I really, really hope I’m wrong about that last one.

Stay tuned for my next series of posts, tentatively titled “OMFG are you kidding me I have to pack again, why didn’t we just leave our crap in boxes for the past year?!?!!”

(To be fair, quite a bit of our crap is, in fact, still in boxes. Laziness and procrastination FTW!)