Guilt-Free Parenting

This week has just been one of those weeks. One of those weeks where I felt the need to check two parenting books out from the library, but probably should have checked out ten. One of those weeks where I read said parenting books in two days. One of those weeks where I made Spencer listen to hours of "are we even fit to be parents!?" rants. One of those weeks where I spent hours feeling guilt over my own insecurities, failings, and weaknesses as a parent. One of those weeks where I wondered if my daughter would really make it to her third birthday without being thrown out the window by her crazed mommy first...

But then came our nightly ritual.

Either Spencer or I wake up Grace every night before we go to bed in order to take her to the bathroom. Now, do I feel like this is fantastic, award-worthy parenting? Not really. Do I worry that, by doing this, she will never learn how to stay dry overnight on her own? Sometimes. Do I feel guilty about possibly impeding her urinary competence? But of course! It's me we're talking about here. I am the Queen of Guilt! But...do I care?

Not really.

As I picked Grace up out of her bed tonight and she cuddled comfortably into my chest, I felt nothing but happiness. As she clung to my neck, leaned against me for support, and kissed my cheek, I couldn't help but cry a little. As she smiled at me and laughed out loud about something that only sleepy delusion can make funny, I just felt lucky. Lucky to have this moment, every night, with my sweet little girl. As she told me she loved me "so much" and cuddled back into her covers happily, I couldn't help but stay there by her side for a little while.

This is how I get through those nasty tantrums. This is how I remember how much I love my daughter after she screams and screams about nothing in particular. This is how I remember why I chose to be a mother. Come what may, as long as she permits, I will wake her up and share those sweet, amazing moments with my imperfect, fantastic little girl.

I'll love you forever,

I'll like you for always,

As long as I'm living

my baby you'll be.

-Robert Munsch

Beauty School Drop-Out

About three weeks ago, I decided to cut Grace's hair

...while she was in the tub

...without Spencer around

...with dollar store scissors.

About .5 seconds into the haircut (after a good two inches of hair was floating around in the tub...), I realized it was a mistake.

You see, sometimes I just want to do something drastic. Sometimes, I need something (however small) to change in my life. And sometimes...I make emotional, irrational decisions.

Sure, I'd been thinking about evening out her hair for a while to get rid of that "baby hair" look she had. But, in those thoughts, she was sitting up straight-ish in a chair, I was using our nice scissors, and Spencer was there to give feedback. Sigh...

So, I cut. And re-cut. And re-cut again. Until the poor little girl needed a good neck-shaving. Which I can't bring myself to do.

So, here's to the fact that toddlers are very forgiving. And forgetful. And unaware of social norms. And very, very suggestible. :) And here's to a lot of really nice people who have assured me that her hair looks just fine. (while chuckling to themselves inside, no doubt...)

Sorry, Grace. I did my best. Next time, we're takin' the plunge and heading to a beauty parlor.

Day Trippers

Spencer's spring break was the past couple of weeks so we decided to check out some of the local highlights. We gassed up our rarely working car (okay, that's a little bit of a exaggeration, but...) and headed west to the exotic city of....Newark, OH. Yeah, trip funds were a little tight this year. But honestly, we had a great time. It was right up our alley and just what we were hoping for.

Our first stop was the Newark Earthworks site. These are large mounds of earth built by an indigenous group referred to as the Hopewell culture between 100 BC and 500 AD. They look like...very nicely shaped hills. But the formations they make (creating perfect circles, parallel lines, octagons, etc.) stretch(ed) for miles and are remarkable in the way they correspond to the moon and the stars. They describe the mounds as "part cathedral, part cemetery, and part astronomical observatory." Not that we could see any of that, but they had it nicely displayed and explained in the museum. :)

We only visited the "Great Circle" because...most of the original structures are either destroyed or currently part of a golf course. You know how it is. But we're glad we went. You can see part of the "Great Circle" in the above picture with Spencer and Grace.

Descending from an earthwork.

Conquering an earthwork. Grace loved climbing up and down these and kept saying we needed to get to the "big red hill." Dora the Explorer, anyone?

We thought these might have been vultures. Gross.
I just liked this one.

The huge, broken tree that we probably were not supposed to climb on...but did. :)

After a picnic lunch, we headed to yet another fantastic Newark landmark: the Longaberger building. AKA...the World's Largest Basket. Appropriately, the Longaberger company specializes in making hand-crafted baskets. Baskets like unto this one:

At the end of the day, we felt like this:

But we're so glad we went. Thank you roadsideamerica.com.

Back to my Roots

Growing, up my parents had a huge garden that occupied our entire side yard. My grandparents had an even more gigantic garden in their backyard (still do). I can't say that all the memories I have of working in those gardens with my family were positive, BUT...some of them were.

Shelling fresh peas was always a bright spot. Early, summer morning weeding sessions---not so much. But, at one point, I did happily plant and cultivate my own little bunch of radishes. I've always loved a good radish. :)

With that semblance of success in mind, I have begun my own miniature herb garden. I figured I should start small, and see where we can go from there. Last summer I "herb-sat" for a neighbor friend of mine while she went on vacation and her herbs didn't completely wither up and die, so...here's hoping. I also "herb-sat" for my sister, Ellie. Her basil developed some kind of white, sticky mucus gunk under my watch, so...I just won't focus on that. :)

Here's what I have so far (basil, parsley, cilantro, and chives):

My chives are still MIA. But look at all that basil!

I'm excited for a summer full of fresh herbs.

Grace's Nightmare

Last night, Grace woke up screaming around 2:00 a.m. Figuring she was having some kind of terrible, horrible nightmare, Spencer hurried in to assuage her fear. When he got in and asked her what was the matter, she said (in tears),

"Mommy took away my popsicle."

And there you have it, folks. The deepest, darkest fear of a two and a half year old.

"There's an app for that..."

I have a tendency to over analyze every interaction I have with people. I always worry that I don't come off as I intend (which I'm pretty sure does occur at least 85% of the time...) and I frequently stew for days over stupid things that somehow escape my mouth. Guilt, sadly, has been one of my longest and most faithful of companions. We know each other well.

As I sat pondering my latest social blunder, I racked my brain for a way to keep myself from saying dumb/insensitive things to people so often. Since simply never talking to anyone ever again seemed a (*sometimes*) appealing, though impossible and utterly ridiculous answer, I knew I had to come up with something better. :)

And then it hit me, straight from Pavlov the psychologist himself, app shock therapy. Okay, I know it sounds weird, but let's consider the possibilities together. Anna walks up to a friend/family member/husband/daughter/acquaintance/grocery store clerk in a bad mood. Instead of allowing her calm, more rational self to come out and socialize, her bad mood completely takes over and she gears up to say something terrible that will haunt her for days.

And instantly, *shock.* No dumb words; no regret.

Come on, doesn't it sound just a little bit appealing? :) It could quite possibly "condition" the crankiness right out of me! And it's not like the shock would even have to be that strong. Just a small, imperceptible jolt that could alert me that I was heading into "potential-guilt-for-days" zone and nip it right in the bud. The possibilities are endless, really. You could buy the shock therapy app catered to your very own weaknesses and insecurities.

I'd buy it. :)

Traditions

I love traditions. There's nothing like a good, comfortable ritual to get you feeling the holiday (whichever holiday that might be...) spirit. No doubt, the idea of having "traditions" was realized through a peaceful agreement between the sentimentalists of the world and...the slackers.

It is so nice to have something special to look forward to every year; an activity that marks the passage of time and gives a point of comparison from year to year. Something you can share with your loved ones and pass on from generation to generation. Something that reminds you about the real meaning of the holiday.

But...it's also nice not having to reinvent that Christmas/birthday/

Valentine's Day wheel every year. A planning slacker's paradise. For example, this year Spencer and I went rock climbing on my birthday. Why, you ask? Oh, because we did it last year and it was fun. Why mess with perfection? Why put in unnecessary effort when whatever you did last year can be easily recycled this year? Say hello to the birth of an unintended "tradition."

With that said, this past holiday season, Spencer and I (mostly me...because I'm obsessive like that...) spent a lot of time trying to discover our "dream" traditions. This came about, I believe, mostly because it was the first time in our five Christmases together that we would be waking up Christmas morning in our own place instead of a family member's.

To me, this felt like some kind of rite of passage. I took it as a sign that I needed to figure out the holidays completely and spend ridiculous amounts of time researching traditions. Because really, as discussed earlier, if you do it right just one time, you are set for decades. :)

We'll start with Thanksgiving. I might as well just admit that I did not spend as much time contemplating Thanksgiving traditions as I should have. Sigh. Thanksgiving; such an under appreciated holiday. The mere fact that it is the least commercialized holiday I know of merits extra recognition and attention. Next year, I'm sure.

As it was, we mostly just piggy-backed on the Warnick's traditions. Grace did run in the Toddler Turkey Trot down Lane Ave, but that was about it. But, hey, the Warnicks' traditions are fabulous, so it was still a win-win situation.

We were lucky to have lots of family come to Columbus this year. Our Merkley cousins, Sarah and Hannah, and their families as well as good old Sam, Emily, and Alex joined us for a few days. Terri, a lady from our ward, also got in on the fun. The dinner was fabulous and my small contributions paled in comparison to the feast the Warnicks produced. As such, they shall not be mentioned. :)

The post-Thanksgiving dinner gingerbread house making was a hit. My goal was to cover mine with as much candy as possible, so I could happily snack on it later. Spencer's goal, as always, was a little more ambitious.
And now, on to Christmas! Not all of the traditions that I tried to implement this year were successful. Perhaps we were suffering from tradition overkill, but we definitely found some keepers. We went to see the Thomas the Train Christmas display at the downtown library.

We braved the cold in order to experience "Zoo Lights" at the Columbus Zoo.

It was totally worth it. Grace made friends with a wolf. Two seconds before this was taken, the wolf had her front paws perched up on the window, staring into Grace's face.

However, most of our new traditions do not come accompanied by a picture. During the entire month of December, Spencer and I wrote down little compliments/(things we'd noticed the other doing that we appreciated) on slips of paper and put them in each other's stockings. On Christmas morning, we got to read them all. This one went swimmingly. I'd forgotten how good Spencer is at writing love notes. (blush...)

We also tried implementing a 12 days of Christmas service project. It involved doing at least one little act of service for someone outside of our family every day from December 13th-24th. We sort of accomplished this. We went to the temple, delivered lots of Christmas treats, cleaned some public areas, took cookies to the house in the neighborhood with the best lights, and wrote some thank you notes. The delivering of Christmas treats extended to far more than one day, so we counted it multiple times. Cheating. We'll do better next year.

Insert random pictures from Christmas:

Also, thanks to a friend's blog, we started a Christmas story reading tradition. I wrapped 12 Christmas-related stories for Grace (most of which I just picked up from the library) and let her open one each morning during the 12 days leading up to Christmas. Obviously, I seem to have a thing for the number 12. This tradition was a great success as far as Grace was concerned and it got her really excited about present-opening in general.

However, "someone" could have done a better job at screening the stories. (read: me) The culminating story, opened on Christmas Eve nonetheless, ended up being "Hark, the Aardvark Angels Sing." A bit anti-climactic, needless to say.

And lame. Lame, lame, lame.

You know, there is an amazing number of truly terrible Christmas stories for children out there. But, whatever. The title seemed appealing to me when I was just trying to get out of the library. :) Again, I'll do better next year.

We hosted the Warnicks, a sweet lady from our ward, and our neighbor Jennifer for Christmas Eve. There, we served Japatis (Spencer's African special), performed a live Nativity, and painted little, wooden Christmas ornaments (another stolen Warnick tradition). All in all, it was a fabulous Christmas.

I look forward to not planning for it next year. :)