Aquarium Trip (Where Tom makes fun of my inability to spell aquarium)

I can't spell aquarium (without double-checking it).  In fact, right now, I'm not even sure I've spelled it right.  I always think it should be spelled with a c. (Acquarium-- which the spell check is telling me is wrong, even as we speak.  Thank you, technology).

That being said, this weekend, we took Emmy to the Tennessee Aquarium (which I will always call the Chattanooga Aquarium, since it is in Chattanooga).  It was an ambitious trip, because it required 2 and 1/2 hours of travel to get there.  We also weren't really sure how 18-month-old Emmy would respond to the aquarium.  Would she know what she was looking at?  Would she care?

Despite a few missteps by mom and dad (meaning us, not my parents) we had an excellent time.  Well, Emmy had an excellent time.  Tom and I had an exhausting time.  As we were walking back to the car with an evidently grumpy and tuckered child, we discussed how much the trip differed from our last trip to the aquarium when we were both in college (and single, childless folk).  How much this trip seemed like work and less like leisure.  Which is pretty much the epitome of being parents for us.  Life is suddenly full of so much more work.

As to the missteps, mentioned above?  Well, we forgot to pack an extra sippy cup, so we had to wash the milk out of the one we had.  We forgot a second outfit, so when we stopped for lunch, and got ketchup all over the first outfit, we had to stop at walmart to pick up a new outfit for the inevitable aquarium pictures.  We had snacks ready to go, sitting on the kitchen table, and forgot them too.

The stop for lunch wasn't planned, either.  But Emmy got fussy about 30 minutes before we reached Chattanooga.  Plus, I knew that the lunch options at the aquarium would be overpriced, so we found an exit with a few restaurants and chose dairy queen for lunch).  Unfortunately for us, dairy queen (DAIRY queen) didn't have any milk.  (Tom harped on that for the rest of the day) They also didn't have any juice.  So, poor Emmy had to have water for lunch.  (Although, they did offer us pink hawaiian punch or something... which we politely declined).

But here's the best part of the day: We bought our tickets (ignoring the ticket seller who referred to Emmy as "him") and then we walked into the first exhibit, which was penguins.

My child, who I was afraid wouldn't be interested in the aquarium, squealed in delight and watched the penguins for 15 minutes.  I tried to pick her up and move on 3 times before she finally agreed to leave the penguin tank.  She stood there and squealed, and laughed and pointed, and bounced up and down in glee.  When we got to the gift shop, I walked her over to the stuffed animals, and she grabbed a stuffed penguin and gave it a kiss.  Needless to say, Emmy has a new stuffed animal in her bed.  We named him Tacky (after a story my mom used to read me called "Tacky the Penguin" http://amzn.to/ivBbD1).

We had a good time going through the rest of the aquarium.  Another highlight was Emmy blowing a kiss to a gecko that was out for petting by kids.  The lady holding the gecko asked Emmy if she wanted to touch the gecko, but Emmy preferred a long-distance greeting.  She blew a kiss and we moved on. (Which made me happy since I didn't want to have to use the hand sanitizer)

We didn't make it all the way through.  Even leaving the house by nine, we were pushing Emmy's naptime, and around 2 pm, we hit the wall and Emmy got squirmy, whiny and belligerent.  So we bundled her into the stroller and made our way to the exit.

Since Fayetteville is roughly an hour and 1/2 from Chattanooga (though not necessarily on the way back home) we decided to go see Grandma Watson to break up the drive home.  We visited with grandma, had dinner with her and made it home around 9 pm.  It was a long day for all of us.

But we had such a good time.

Work-ation

A work-ation is a type of vacation.  Sort of like an alternative spring break, it's a break from work (the career kind) to do work of another sort.

This memorial day weekend, I went to the Watson homestead to help Tom do some work for his mother.  We cleaned out storage sheds, filled most of a dumpster*, and burned several piles of wood and cardboard.

And contrary to what you may be thinking, I had a good time.  It really was a nice break from work.  It wasn't fun, exactly, not like a beach trip, or going to the aquarium, but it was pleasant.  It was interesting going through all the stored things (years and years of Watson family acquisitions to sort through).  And you can play mexican train dominoes anywhere.

After sorting through all the stuff in the garage and storage sheds, we also have lots of stuff for garage sales/ebay/etc.  We found a really cool poster of all the Masters of the Universe toys (which Tom and I both want to keep).  Tom's friend Chuck came yesterday and loaded his truck with stuff to take to a pawn shop: two sets of golf clubs, lots of tools... honestly I wasn't paying a lot of attention to what all he ended up taking. 

I know that I loaded my car up with some cool stuff, including an old wooden milk crate, one of Tom's Dad's "old" (still in plastic) police helmets (robin's egg blue), a crate full of Tom's old toys (to sell on ebay), another crate of coins and stamps to sell, a glass pitcher, coca cola glasses, and a dunkin donuts thermos.  Susan also gave me her set of ladies golf clubs, so now I can learn to golf.

The other nice part of our work-ation was that Emmy gets to spend the week with her grandma.  She went to the park, and gets to play in her wading pool every day, and there's the constant grandma-spoilage.  She's eaten more ice cream this week than ever before.  And grandma doesn't think I saw it, but I know there are some freezer-pops in store for her.

I had to go back to work today, but the fun of the work-ation continues for Tom, Emmy and grandma Susan.  And on Friday, I'm sure more Watson treasures will be coming home.  (I saved a whole box of those big colored Christmas lights for next Christmas).

*We got a dumpster for several reasons.  1) There is no trash pick-up in Susan's town. 2)Neither we nor Susan own a truck to haul things to the dump. Also, 3) Some of the things we threw in the dumpster would be pushing the limits of a pick-up truck. And 4) You can't burn everything.

I'm a Worrier, Like My Mother Before Me.

I just emailed my mom two documents.  One is a one-page guide to Emily's schedule, medication dosages, and food requirements, along with a note about tantrums.  The other is a list of foods that she likes to eat.  I also sent a second email with details about her doctor.

Does my sending this to my mother indicate a lack of confidence in her ability to care for my daughter?  No. 

Does it reflect my reluctance to leave my daughter and my guilt about doing so?  Probably.

Mostly, though, I know my mom.  She's a worrier.  She's a planner.  A list maker.  A scheduler. 

I provided this document as a cheat sheet to the things I have learned about my daughter and the tools and tricks I use to keep her happy.

It is my firm belief that if a parent anticipates their child's needs, behaviors, and wants, they can mitigate most bad behavior.  Not all, certainly, as Emmy's daily tantrums can attest, but I think that a parent planning ahead is the difference between a normal happy child (who occasionally gets frustrated by normal child things) and a maladjusted, cranky, tired, unhappy child.

If your child gets enough sleep, they are less likely to spiral when they get frustrated (and with limited communication skills, frustration is inevitable).

So, for my mom, I wrote down what Emmy's schedule is, and what she expects throughout the day so that her schedule will change as little as possible.  I can't tell my mom everything that I know, and from a logical standpoint, I understand that, but my hope is that writing some of it down will help.

I think, mostly, though, this is just evidence of how much like my mother I am.  If you plan and think about it enough, things won't go wrong.  But like I told mom, babies are just a big ball of chaos, and though planning certainly helps, helicopter (grand)parenting will just lead to anxious children (and lots of gray hair).

Pending Milestone

This weekend will be the first time that Emmy will be away from both of her parents at the same time.

We're flying to New Jersey for a wedding, and we decided it would be easier (on everyone) if Emmy stayed with Grandma and Grandpa.  (We won't mention how much Tom and I are looking forward to two and a half days with no responsibility for anyone but ourselves, because... well... it makes me feel guilty to admit it)

I'm not worried about it (not excessively so, anyway) but I know Weez is.  I think she has imagined a worst-case scenario where Emmy wakes up on Friday morning (she's spending the night Thursday through Saturday), realizes neither Tom nor I are there, and proceeds to cry until we return on Sunday.  I, on the other hand, imagine that Emmy will barely notice, with all the people to pay attention to her (Grandma, Grandpa, and Aunt Patty?!)

I can imagine lots of worse worst-case scenarios, and some of them freeze my blood, but it's counter-productive and it strays too far into the neuroses that I try to avoid.  This weekend will be fine.  Emmy will be fine.  She will not believe that her mom and dad have abandoned her.  She will not cry the entire time.  She will not drink a bottle of cleaning fluid or be scratched by a cat who has not been trained to play nice with the baby.

She will be doted on, played with, and loved.  And that's what matters.

I keep imagining all the free time I will have on this brief trip.  Maybe I can finish my book (the kindle tells me I have read 61% of Stephen King's Under the Dome).  Maybe there will be a treadmill in the hotel and I can get a run in.  Maybe I can just nap in between all the wedding festivities.  Whatever I end up doing, I'm really looking forward to the trip. 

April Updates

April has been a good month so far.

This was Emmy's first month in her new classroom, she moved up to the toddler room.  She seems to be loving it.  This new room brought a lot of changes.  Emmy's day now has more of a schedule, she eats lunch (finger foods) in a group setting, instead of individually.  She also gets to go out on the playground now, which is great, because she loves her outside time.

Her vocabulary now consists of the following words:
Dada
Mama (that one took quite a bit longer than Dada)
Cat
Cracker
Hi
Bye-bye
night-night
please (peas)
No (her favorite at the moment)

We're working hard on yes.  We've got her to nod when we ask her yes/no questions, and she repeats yes when I say it.  Previously, no matter what you asked, the answer was no with a head shake.  Which was very cute, but misleading. 
"Emmy, do you want a bath?" No.
"Emmy, do you want a cookie?" No.
"Emmy, do you like to go outside?" No.

Now, generally, if you ask her if she wants something she'll say yes or no appropriately.  Patricia has been babysitting a few times and I always call her Aunt Patty, and Emmy will softly say "Pat-Pat," which amuses me to no end (especially since the first time my sister heard it, she groaned).

I found the Wizard of Oz playing on TBS on Sunday night and Emmy was enraptured.  Normally, she "watches" TV by paying attention for two minutes then resuming her usual playing with toys.  But this time, she sat still and quietly watched.  And after a long day of baby-wrangling, right before heading upstairs for her bedtime, it was a welcome break for Tom and me.  We will be buying that movie.  Soon.

On more adult fronts, Tom and I are doing well.  Tom is over his "flu" (his second flu diagnosis since getting the flu shot for the first time in years, which he won't let me forget). 

We're considering participating in a CSA this year (community supported agriculture, which is buying part of a farmer's crop to be delivered throughout the season).  I've picked my farm, my share size (half share), and my pick-up location.  But I haven't yet gotten Tom to sign off.  I think it's a good deal, but it's painful to pay for 5-6 months worth of veggies up front instead of the piecemeal way you do it at the grocery store/farmer's market.  However, it's important to me that Emmy have veggies every day, and I want to boost the variety. 

Sleep Deprivation Experiments

I suppose many people might tell us that, as new parents, we should just learn to accept sleep deprivation as a part of our lives.  And to a certain extent, I can agree with that.  Even if I wasn't lazy about chores, having to keep a constant eye on a toddler makes them nearly impossible to accomplish without penning her up in a pack and play (something I have only tried once-- and it didn't go well).

On the other hand, though, I think our sleep problems may actually stem from the fact that we feel (and maybe I'm just speaking for myself here) a societally driven desire to cram too many things into our schedule.  But even that is too simplistic of an explanation.  Yes, we both have activities outside of work.  Yes, we have a one-year-old who requires constant supervision.  Yes, we both like to relax in front of the TV or a book.

All of that being said, I think the problem is our (my) unwillingness to compromise.  I have this idea in my head of what an ideal life looks like, and I keep striving to reach it.  In this ideal life, we have better jobs, make more money, eat only home-cooked, organic-local-humane food (that is also gluten-free) and are magical parents who socialize with other parents, volunteer in child-centric activities (like girl scouts and sports).  We're also president of the PTO.

But I digress.  In pursuit of this perfect future, we push ourselves to achieve things that are on the path to this magic life.  We're both taking classes toward an advanced degree.  We both run, in an effort to be healthy.  I cook, and try very hard to make things from scratch and not lean on convenience foods.  I try to go to the farmer's market in the summer (though apparently, it's open year-round).  I try to cram more vegetables onto Tom's plate, but it seems like such a waste when he turns his nose up at them.

And, all of these extra pursuits, the stuff beyond the 40 hour work week, the childcare, and the home maintenance (laundry, cleaning, etc) has to happen either while Emmy is sitting there clamoring for our attention OR after Emmy goes to bed AND before we go to bed.

Emmy goes to bed at 8.  With any luck, we've had dinner before that, so now it's just a matter of cleaning it up.  And since I made it from scratch, there are a lot of kitchen tools that need to be cleaned.  Then, if it's a homework night, that has to get done.  Then there's getting ready for bed.  And Tom runs at night.  And I run in the morning.  And by God, there just aren't enough hours in the day.  Something has to give.

So where do I make the compromise?  Do I give up sleep? (that NEVER works out well-- I turn into a super-grump with insufficient sleep)  Do I give up running?  Do I make simpler meals that rely on more packaged foods?  Do I give up the time I spend on the bare minimum of appearance related maintenance I do (blow-drying hair, showering, teeth brushing).  I already gave up on contacts, nail polish, and I almost never wear make-up.

Do I try to accomplish more things before Emmy goes to bed?  The only way that will work is if Tom and I trade-off on the Emmy-minding.

Is it simply a matter of juggling time better?

And on that note, here is my other problem.  I generally get a sufficient-to-almost-sufficient amount of sleep, but even so, I'm tired at the end of the day.  And planning my life out to squeeze as much time and efficiency from a day as possible?  Well, the mere thought exhausts me.  I'm pretty laid-back when it comes to schedules and the like, and the thought of consulting a list tires me out.  Much less the thought of actually planning that list out.

It is my belief that the human brain requires a certain amount of down-time.  And I think mine needs a little more. 

It's like an experiment

I don't like to tempt fate and say things like, "I don't know how this week could get worse," but seriously, week?  You've sucked.

First, an unnamed co-worker got mad at me for misinterpreting my actions.  I'm no saint at work.  I have a tendency to be standoffish-at-best, which can be taken as meanness.  I don't really think I'm mean, I just don't pretend to care about whatever everyone is complaining about.  Anyway, this was not an instance of my being aloof, this was simply a misunderstanding about my intentions.  My intention was to do my job, and it was taken as me preventing this co-worker from doing it.  Pointedly. 

At least, that's what I assume.  So, that was Tuesday.  And I raged out (silently and inwardly) and it ruined my day.

Then on Wednesday, a snowstorm hit at 2:30 and I got stuck in traffic for 3 and 1/2 hours when I left work at 4:00.  There have been a few times in my life where I have felt powerless and simultaneously known that I was in a situation through no fault of my own, which only contributes to the powerlessness, because you can't even tell yourself that if you had only done this differently, you wouldn't be stuck now.  This was one of those times.  It wasn't that bad, except that I didn't use the bathroom before I left work.  It could have been worse, and I realize that.  It could have worked out that Emmy was stuck at daycare while I was stuck in traffic.  Or, even worse, stuck in the car with me (and hungry and tired and increasingly grouchy about being stuck in her carseat).  So, I'm glad it was just me.  But it felt downright apocalyptic, being stuck on the streets of Nashville creeping along on a drive that normally takes less than 30 minutes.

On Thursday, everything seemed to be going fine, until I got home.  I wore tall boots to prevent wet jeans from walking in snow from making me cold and miserable all day.  Boots = good plan.  Except that these boots had no traction.  I almost slipped once, and I thought, be careful, watch your step.  And then on the next step, down I went, smashing my knee on the icy concrete of my driveway. 

Then later that night, I tried to get a run in, in preparation for the 5K on Saturday, and the belt kept slipping.  I was so frustrated that I stopped my run after only 15 minutes or so.  It took me an hour after that to find the manual online and figure out that the belt was loose and then, figure out how to tighten it, which required me to put weight on my bruised knee, which HURT (because I forgot about the bruise until the weight was on it).

And finally, today, Tom's flight for work was bumped up a day so that it coincides with his SURPRISE BIRTHDAY PARTY.  And me, being the socially inept creature that I am had no one to call about this devestation but HIM.

Phone conversation:
Me: You can't fly out on Sunday.
Him: Why?
Me: You just can't.  Can you change it?
Him: No.  Why can't I fly on Sunday?
Me: (bursting into tears) Because I scheduled a surprise party for you on Sunday.
Him: Well, honey, if I had known, I would have tried to change it.
Me: That's the irony.  If you had known, it wouldn't be a surprise.

So, fate being what it is, I have two more days for this week to get worse.  Any bets? Perhaps I can break my ankle (or freeze to death) on the run tomorrow.

Fate, I await your next move with baited breath.