Brighter Moments

In these last few months I've become stretched thinner than ever before. I've taken on more responsibilities at work...more than I should and still be able to feel proud and confident in the work that I do. It's become a game of which fire to put out first in the time I have between meetings, which isn't much. On average, I am in about 10 meetings a week.  It's an insane schedule with an increasing number of deadlines and responsibilities.  I've also made the not-so-smart choice to instruct 2 online courses simultaneously.  I really enjoy teaching and so I jump at the chance to do so.  These courses are not credit based, but rather continuing education for public health professionals.  You would think that this would ease up the pressure a bit, but it really doesn't.  My students are working professionals in need of instruction that is applicable to their daily work.  That means that I want to be as responsive as possible to their questions, assignments, and discussion postings...it's a lot of work.  So, I do all of this while trying to manage an increasingly busy household.  The worst part is that I'm starting to feel a bit whiny about it.  I don't consider myself to be a whiny person...but lately, I've been thinking how stressful my life is and that I want others to notice, too.  I've got a case of the oh-poor-me's.  It's not very pretty.  I really need to pull myself out of this and focus on what's important. 

There have been some bright moments...especially with my 3 amazing children.  Just look at these beautiful pictures from Easter.  Despite all the craziness that is my life, it's easy for me to feel good about it when I get to share it with these little people...inspiring, guiding, and loving them.

Hazel couldn't keep from grabbing her shoes. 

Doesn't she look lovely in these pink tulips?

My Calvin and Violet hamming it up for the camera.

Violet and Calvin out on the egg hunt.

 

hodgepodge

There have been quite a few things happening over the last month that have kept me from my blog. Its been incredibly taxing on the body, mind, and spirit. I thought it would be better to deal with them in little snipits in this hodgepodge entry, so that I can catch up to current day.


Daddy-Daughter Dance

My husband had a date with a very special little lady. He escorted Violet to the Daddy-Daughter dance. She got dressed up in her favorite semi-casual knit dress adorned with buttons...and as I look back on the pictures from that night, it looks like it's a bit short on her. Marcus was excited when I told him he didn't have to wear a suit. The two of them posed for a couple of quick pictures before they headed out into the blustery February evening. I was excited to hear the reports of their very special date...I envisioned those adorable moments when Marcus would ask Violet to dance and maybe Marcus would even have her stand on his toes...or lift her up. I played out just about every Rockwell-type moment in my head. The reality was a bit less magical. Apparently, when they got there, Violet found some of her little friends and spent most of the evening running around and dancing with them. She ate an a plethora of candy and sweets. Sadly, Marcus only got to dance with her once...the rest of the time, he stood on the sidelines of the child frenzy... making conversation with the other dateless dads. They had a wonderful time, but I had wished for something a little more enchanting.

Marcus and Violet just before heading out to

the Daddy-Daugher dance.

The same week of the Daddy-Daughter dance...my Dad died. Every time I say or think that phrase, I have to repeat it to myself...its still hard to believe. He died. I had a very complicated relationship with my Dad...he had such a troubled past and struggled every day with the resulting demons...he never overcame them. He was a sentimental person, hanging on to the smallest treasures...a matchbook from a friends wedding...a Valentine I made him when I was 7...an old kelly green sweater vest that my mom had given him in the '70's to match his golf bag. He cared deeply about a great many things and people, but never really knew how to express it. He was incredibly smart...a business savvy person who understood the art of sales and the woes of management. Golfing was his passion and had been since he was a boy...and he was good at that, too. He was also a jerk a lot of the time...tormenting restaurant waiters and sales clerks...embarrassing me at basketball games...and creating angry scenes when things didn't go his way. There were dark times, which I think I remember the most...those times when he caused irreparable damage to the people closest to him...my mom, sister, and I. Since I learned of his death, I've spent quiet moments sorting out the memories and my feelings for him. I know he loved me...I know he was proud of me. I think he knew I loved him...and how sad I was that he knew such sadness in his life and experienced such injustices...and how happy I was to share the big moments and decisions of my life with him. I hope that he understood why I was the way I was in our relationship...that past disappointments have shaped who I am and how I dealt with him. And, I hope he knew that I thought he was a loving Grandpa...and that I wish life had given him longer to know his grandchildren. Although I've put much of my reactions to his death into perspective, I know I'll be processing it for a long time...

My dad and I when I was about 1 1/2 years.  He always loved to garden...

and here he's showing me the sunflowers.

Calvin 4.0

My little man is 4 years old...and we celebrated. On the night of his birthday, he picked the local hibachi restaurant (Ukai) for his special meal. . Marcus and I desperately love hibachi...so we are excited every year when he picks this restaurant...and wholeheartedly support it. Calvin loves to think about how the chef cooks the food, how he flips those egg shells into his hat, and how he flips the knife on his spatula. He is mesmerized. This time, though, he actually covered his eyes for the ceremonial flames at the beginning of the show. After dinner, we headed home (stuffed) and opened presents. Calvin loved his new Leapster, Bakugans, Hot Wheels racing set, and Geotrax dynamite mountain. Then we had our ice cream cake - one that he's had his heart set on for months...the cake batter cake with sprinkles from Cold Stone Creamery. Its not my favorite, but he really enjoyed every bite. Of course, we had a party with guests, too. We had three little people over to our house for a chef-themed party...with lots of cooking activities,  including decorating chef hats, playing a food pyramid game, spice container bowling, and making a lasagna dinner to take home to their families. I've been told that I go overboard for birthday parties...but I can't imagine anything more fun that planning an over-the-top party for my babies. Plus, with the themes I choose, it gets my creative juices flowing. Everything from the chef pot invitations to the goodie bags chock full of kitchen gadgets and gummy food...it's stress laden fun for me, beginning to end. Marcus generously gives in to my craziness on this...and every time vows that the next party will be at Chuck-e-Cheese. We'll see about that...

Calvin next to his birthday cake before his big chef-themed birthday party.

(His favorite colors are green and black.)

Lost and Found

There isn't much of a story here...just an announcement. Violet has lost her quintessential two front teeth. Just look at my little baby...so grown up, with no teeth. I get a bit squeamish looking at wiggly teeth and Violet had fun watching me squirm. Now that they're gone, I think she looks adorable. Of course, I promptly took pictures.

Violet sans her two front teeth.

My little Hazy has found two teeth...her bottom two. She is learning to use them with all her finger food, but thankfully, she's stopped biting when I nurse her. We've been celebrating her accomplishments left and right these days...why just last week she lumbered into Marc's lap to hear a story. And when Marcus got to the page with the puppy, Hazel leaned in to give it a kiss. Just yesterday, she clapped all by herself. We all cheered "Yay!" and, she, of course, did it again. And, she's showing the first signs of mobility, crouching on her hands and knees to lunge toward a toy she wants. What a darling...I love being a mom!
 
 

Hazel making an adorable squinched face during

playtime on the floor.  Check out those teeth!

vacation

Have you ever wanted to vacation in your past? Spend some time as your former self...in your former life? I do. Now, don't take this to mean that I'm "living in the past", unable/unwilling to move on with my life, or wish to change any of the decisions I made to arrive at a different outcome. I love the "now" of my life and I wouldn't change a thing. In fact, I love my life so much that I want to revisit times along the way and just enjoy them.

With the big Superbowl win for the New Orleans Saints...and Mardi Gras coming up next week...its got me thinking about a vacation to the time Marcus and I were in New Orleans, just after we were married. That was such a wonderfully simple time, full of love and discovery. We really set the foundation for our lives now - if we had never lived that time in that way, I don't think we would handle the pressures we face now as well as we do. So indulge me a bit in my vacation fantasy...as I visit myself on a very ordinary Friday when we we're living in New Orleans.

It was so good to finish a hectic day at class and work thinking about my special Friday evening with Marcus. We only had one car, so Marcus would pick me up from the school of public health building downtown. The building was on the fringe of the city, near to the hospitals...and away from all the tourist hot spots. I had always wished that it was closer to the French Quarter, although it may have been too tempting to go out to lunch more often, which was not in the grad school budget. We were so broke then, living on a pretty small stipend and part-time student level salary. We did a lot with a little and took pleasure in the everyday things; we considered trips to the Save-A-Center grocery store our dates. On Friday's, we would indulge our affinity for wine at tastings held at the wine shop very near our apartment, The Cellars of River Ridge. This family owned shop had a diverse selection of wines, some gourmet treats, and accessories for entertaining with wine. Every Friday the owner would choose to feature 3 or 4 wines for a free tasting. We would meander in at about 6:00 pm, and carefully evaluate the tasting selection...pretending, really, that we knew what we were looking at. We'd make our choice, usually a red, and the owner would pour a generous portion in a small plastic cup for our enjoyment. Marcus and I would then sip the wine and form our opinions. The owner was always so helpful, telling us about the wine, the vineyard, and what we should be looking for when we tasted...the oaky overtones, the jammy, robust palate, the crisp, lemony finish. We listened and learned. With our little cups, we would then walk the aisles of the store, admiring all the labels and coveting the contents. Many of them were too expensive for us, but we liked to pretend. We would each pick one that we would buy, if we could. The back wall was a cooler full of a variety of beer that always drew Marc's attention. We even liked looking at the wall of liquors, checking out the bottle styles...we admired the majesty of the vodka bottles, especially. I think we knew their inventory as well as they did. Of course, we would try all the wines featured for the tasting...and some of them we would even have a second cup. We weren't the only ones; the store really took on a community party atmosphere on Friday's, with many "regulars" doing the same thing as us. We stayed for about 2 hours in this little shop, drinking, browsing, and chatting with the owner or his son. Sometimes we would actually buy something...it made us feel better about crashing the party every week, so to speak. When it was time to go, I would look up at Marcus and say "Taqueria?" When I was lucky enough to hear him say "ok" (after some cajoling), we would walk around the corner to a small Mexican restaurant, Taqueria Corona, for take out. It must have been hard for Marcus to always be the finance police...I put him in a position to have to deny me things quite frequently, especially dinners out. Anyway, I would order the California burrito, an oversize charred chicken burrito with avocado, and Marcus would get this combination meal...I remember it came with a fish taco, which at the time I thought was just weird. (Don't worry, I've been cured of my Midwestern palate.) We'd bring our meal home, set it up on the coffee table in front of the futon, pour ourselves a glass of box wine and beer to keep the buzz going, and flip on the TV and watch whatever. After finishing our extravagant meal, we'd cuddle on the futon and eventually fall asleep there, waking up in the wee hours of the morning and shuffling to the back bedroom to fall into bed. It was perfect...perfectly simple.