Make Up Your Mind!

I love winter with its quiet snowy days and chilly nights. And I love spring with its mild sunny weather and bright botanical pageantry. But I struggle with the "in between" weather. Cold and rainy one day, blistering hot the next. 50 mph winds on Thursday, suffocatingly still air on Friday, blizzard on Saturday. Make up your freakin' mind! And to think my mom thought I was indecisive when trying to pick out what to wear to school every morning. My fickle nature seems downright stable and predictable when compared to mother nature. It's very frustrating trying to explain to a 2 year old that we can't go outside because its subarctic out there when the previous day we spent 23 hours on the swingset. In fact the only good thing about the ever changing weather is that Peter can continue to wear his adorable hat from Oma P. I can't help but smile when I see Peter running around with it on.

My Blogging Problem

Hello...is anyone out there? If not, I completely understand; generally a 2 month absence does not fall under the heading of "Brief Blogging Respite." I was worried this would happen when I started my blog last fall. I've never been good at journaling or friendly correspondence. In fact abysmal failure is an appropriate way to describe myself when it comes to returning e-mails, writing family and friends, keeping a journal, recording important dates and milestones for Peter, etc. I even have a hard time with Facebook (the simplest of all mediums).

Let me describe for you my typical thought process when receiving an email:
1) Wow, it's so nice to hear from _____. I love knowing what's happening in ____'s life.
2) I must write _____.
3) Oh, wait. My response needs to be as equally lovely as the original.
4) Crap, I don't have time for that right now—I'll do that later.
5) Hmm...it's 1 week later, I should write _____ back now. Wait, since I rudely have waited a week to respond, it needs to be even better and longer than I planned. Eh, I'll do it later.
6) Crap, crap, crap! Now it's been months and I still haven't responded. Now I have to write a long newsy epistle. It needs to be perfectly crafted with clever wit, insightful observations, amusing anecdotes, and satirical reports on my life. That's going to be difficult. I think I'll do it later.
7) Now, it's been 8 years. It would be embarrassing to respond now. I hate myself.

Yep, basically some variation of the above goes on in my pathetic little mind when faced with recording my life with words. As you can see I have a huge problem with procrastination and perfection. I'm so overwhelmed by my need for perfection that I procrastinate doing anything. But I foolishly thought that the public nature of blogging would apply enough pressure for me to overcome my neuroses (well, at least 2 of them).

Unfortunately, I failed to account for the obvious: numerous people reading my blog would compound the need for perfection, thus sending my procrastination into overdrive. And I also made the foolish mistake of thinking my son would let me within 10 feet of the computer while he's awake. And I didn't realize that my son would become an insomniac forcing me to grab the nearest pillow whenever he actually sleeps, leaving me very little computer time. And I didn't account for the fact that fatigue plus life would leave me in a bit of a melancholic state for several months. Oh well.

And to You February I Bid Adieu

When I became pregnant, I arrogantly and naively vowed that I would not be one of those mothers that puts her kids in so many activities that they have a hard time finding an open slot in their schedules to brush their teeth. I was going to smartly sift through the available extra-curricular offerings allowing my children to expand and develop their talents (and create new ones) and still have a fun and carefree childhood. I knew at some point I would devolve into the proverbial chauffeur/personal assistant for my children. I just always expected it to happen when I had multiple older kids—not a single 2-year-old!

Every Monday and Wednesday Peter has preschool. Unfortunately the preschool is at his EI center (Early Intervention) which is a 20 to 25 minute drive (I spend a lot of time in the car on those days). On Fridays he has a Kindermusik class at EI. Peter is also visited by an EI Specialist twice a month and a SLP (Speech Language Pathologist) once a month. Those things combined with the daily speech therapy and autism therapy we do at home keep Peter and I comfortably active.

By nature I am not one of those busy people who likes/has to be doing something all the time, so it was with horror that I looked at my calendar for the month of February. Thanks to Peter, I had at least one thing scheduled for every weekday in February except one. In addition to the things above we had extra events that crowded our calender. We're starting a new autism therapy with Peter that required a couple of home visits from a therapist. We updated Peter's EI goals so we had to meet with our EI Family Advocate and EI Specialist. When you put those all together with our regular activities and add in doctor's appointments for Peter and me, we were extra busy in February. My calendar has more than a few blanks for March and I'm practically giddy about it.

My Chunky Monkey

Peter's always been a little guy. He entered this world weighing 4 lbs. 15 oz. and measuring 17 1/2 inches, putting him in the 1st percentile on both the weight and height growth charts. He was little Peter (a name I'm sure he won't appreciate when he's older). For the first 9 months of his life Peter fluctuated between the 1st and 2nd percentiles. He finally hit a growth spurt and celebrated his 1st birthday by landing a spot in the 14th percentile for weight and the 5th for height. He continued to grow slowly and by his 18 month doctor appointment he slid into the 15th percentile for weight and jumped to the 18th for height.

Today Peter had his 2 Year checkup. I knew he had grown, but I was anxious to see where he landed on the charts. While Peter eats a large variety of foods he usually eats a very small quantity; somedays I think a caterpillar could beat him in an eating contest (he must get that from me). So you can imagine my surprise and delight when Peter's pediatrician told me that I could move Peter from whole milk to 2%. He then showed me that Peter had leapt into the 48th percentile for weight and the 27th for height. WHAT! Where did my little Peter go? I guess he's been making more hidden trips into the pantry than I was aware of.

Pete's Party

Peter didn't like his party hat or his family singing Happy Birthday to him

A 2-year-old doesn't understand what a birthday party is, let alone a birthday. But Ryan and I think that any photographic proof/ammunition we can produce right now to disprove Peter's almost certain to happen teenage rant of "You never did anything for me," is enough reason to have a birthday party for a 2-year-old. So we had a small family party a couple of weeks ago (it's taken me this long to finally go through the photos).

My mom generously offered to bake the birthday cake and I smartly and generously accepted her offer (it's not nice to invite people to a party and serve them a cake I baked). We discussed possible themes for the cake but were unable to come up with anything. Peter is one of those rare toddlers that is not obsessed with a particular animal/vehicle/cartoon character. Really his dream cake would be 12 mini cupcakes frosted in 6 different colors; he could spend his entire party sorting and lining up the cupcakes. Then my mom and I realized that there is something that Peter loves more than anything: Big Walter! So my mom made an amazing cake of Peter's beloved dog. We were a little worried that he wouldn't want to eat the Big Walter cake but of course he scarfed it down because it was cake.

Peter was a bit confused about everything. And having 10 adults sing Happy Birthday to him was more than he could handle (apparently our singing voices are worse than we thought). But overall I thought it was a success. We were able to spend time with our families, celebrate an adorable little boy, spoil Peter more, and eats lots of cake.

Peter with the real Big Walter and the cake Big Walter

Hmm, maybe this birthday thing isn't so bad

Yummy cake

Overheard

I overheard this conversation between two women at the gym today. (Yes, I'm a terrible person because I eavesdrop.)

Middle-aged woman with really bad eye makeup (think goth teenager): "I just love big families. I always wanted one but I was only able to have 6 kids."

Her completely serious friend: "Oh, that's too bad. I never wanted a big family so 5 was just right for us."

WHAT?! Since when is 5 or 6 kids NOT a big family?!

Why I Want To Be A Kid

Wouldn't it be nice to just go to sleep whenever (and wherever) you felt like it.