Home

So I've tried to balance this week's posts.  I didn't want to post all week about goodbyes and sadness and doubts.  So I tried to give a little funny here and there as well...but today is my last full day in Richmond.  I'm spending it packing and cleaning my house and I just started thinking about the word "Home."  When I'm living in Northern Virginia, in my in-law's house, will I call it "home?"  When we come back on the weekends to complete the move, will I say then that we're going "home?"

Its not always clear what home is.  This house that I live in for one more day...it's the only home my children have ever known - will they even remember it?  I know Freddie won't.  Maybe Ainsley will be able to recall fuzzy memories after looking at pictures and hearing stories.

So this house...one that I did not plan on living in forever, one that we would have left soon no matter where jobs took us, one that is bursting at the seams with children and clothes and toys and dogs...it is still our home.

This is the home that we brought Gatsby to when he was just 8 weeks old.  All covered in fleas and dirt and grime.

This is the home that Clif and I became more than a couple, more than two people living together.  This is where we promised forever, for better or for worse.

This is the home that we became a family in.  The place where I spent 9 months with Ainsley kicking and flipping in my belly.

This is the home we brought her to that first day out of the hospital.

This is the home that we added Brinkley to.

This is the home where we decided on another baby.  Where we went through sad times and frustrating times until finally, Freddie was real.

Tomorrow when I walk out the door, I'll wonder who will make memories here next.  I'll wonder if they'll be young like we were, excited to buy their first house and start their lives together.  Or will they be older, retired, looking for a place to spend their golden years.

As I walked around packing and cleaning today, I though about how frustrated I've been with the lack of closet space and the ugly kitchen floor and the bathroom tiles that won't come clean, but as I write this, I can't help but feel sad to be leaving.  Most of the important things in my life have happened right here.  All these monumental memories wrapped up in one little cape cod that we've called home for 5 1/2 years.

I know that we'll find a new home.  That we'll welcome another baby (side bar: not pregnant, not trying to start rumors...I'm talking in the future people) or another puppy or celebrate an anniversary or birthday in a new home.  And that home will take on a life of its own and become our home.  That home will be the one our children remember, where they'll spend their birthdays and where they'll be grounded and where they'll feel safe.  It will be the place they leave one day to start their own lives, their own careers, their own families.  That place?  That's where they'll call home.  Not here.  But Clif and me?  I think we'll always think of this as the starting point.  Our home.  The place where our story began.

Sweet Little Angel? Or Devil in Disguise?

I recently read an article about discipline and how to stop a temper tantrum and at the very end it said "If all else fails, and your child throws a temper tantrum in public, hold your head up high and be proud because you have not given in.  Every other parent will see the tantrum and admire you for it."

Hmmm...I call bull shit on that!

We've been fairly lucky on the temper tantrum front.  We haven't seen many from Ainsley.  I have to say, that I think Freddie may turn out differently...but hopefully we have a little time before that rears it's ugly head.  However, Ainsley had a meltdown in Target a few nights ago that I am still reeling from!

Pride is not the word I would use to describe the situation.  Shame, fury, frustration, humiliation...those are more on track.

It started the moment we left daycare, and I just knew it was probably going to be a bad trip to Target...but what are you going to do?  For now, I'm still a single mom during the week so I don't have a husband to run out for me or watch the kids for me.  They've gotta come if I need something, and well Freddie was out of food and I needed some baby lotion for him...so it was a necessary trip.

I'll start by saying, I am not above bribery.  In fact, it is probably my greatest parenting skill.  So I usually start out an uncertain trip with bribery.  I told her she could have a Slurpee if she was good.

She was everything but good.  And really, during these trips I really want her to get her good behavior prize.  I want to buy that Slurpee!  Because then next time I can say "Remember the Slurpee?"

So after disappearing down multiple aisles, throwing herself on the floor and rolling into another customer, running and screaming through the pharmacy area and climbing underneath the cart, we were finally ready to check out.

She was like a broken record.

Mommy, I want a Slurpee AND a snack.


No Ainsley.


Tears.  Yeeeeeesssss Mommy!  Yes Mommy, I'm being a good girl NOW!


This continued and I ignored her.  As I headed for the door, it really dawned on her that she was not getting a Slurpee or a snack.  This apparently was unacceptable in her book.

She screamed at the top of her lungs and I felt every eye in the place focus on me.

Let's go Ainsley.


NOOOOOOO!  I WANT A SLURPEE AND A SNACK!!!!!!!


Ainsley, I'm leaving.  If you want to come home with me, you'd better follow me.


NOOO!  Alright, so I guess that idle threat no longer works.

I step towards her and she runs back in to the store.  I have to leave Freddie with the cart so I can catch her. I scoop her up and see the 5 or 6 people watching the show, kind of snickering at me.  Jerks!

She thrashes about, kicking me, punching me, screaming in my face.  I drop her into the back of the cart and proceed out the door.  She climbs out, while it's moving.  So I try my empty threat again.

I'm leaving. I turn my back and head into the street, glancing back to see if she's following, sure that no cars are coming.  She's not following.  So again, I must give in, because I'm pretty sure I'm not actually allowed to leave her in the local Target.

She again runs.  This time into the side street.  So again, I must leave the baby in the cart to catch her.  This time I carry her like a very large, very squirmy football under my arm while pushing the cart filled with Target stuff and Freddie.  She is thrashing about like the child in The Exorcist.

I push her into the van still kicking and screaming.  I know strapping her into the car seat at this point will be futile.  So I close the door, disable the power door function and lock the car.  Then I have to be all quick about unlocking and opening and locking again until Freddie is buckled in and I can give her my full attention.

She did manage to escape once, running into the street, so she did get a quick swat on the rear.  I really don't spank her (after reading this, you may call me crazy for that), but when she does something so frightening like that I just feel like I have to get her attention.

Finally, after a kick in the gut and a slap in the face (both directed at me), we are all strapped in the car and headed home.  She kicked the front seat and screamed at the top of her lungs.  I ignored her.  During these times, I really find that works best.  If I yell at her, it just escalates...not that this could have gotten much worse, but I feel pretending like I can't hear her works best.

Once home, I get Freddie from the car and leave her there.  I take him inside, let the dogs out, go to the bathroom and take a few deep breaths before returning to the car.

She is calmly sitting and waiting for me.

Are you ready to calm down and come inside?


Yes...


You're going to walk in the house, sit on the couch and wait for me.  I'm going to get the bags and then we're going to have a talk.  If you are not on the couch when I get inside you will spend the rest of the night in your room.  Do you understand?


Yes...


And that was really the end of it.  She sat on the couch and waited for me.  We had a talk and she told me she was sorry.

I will say, when it was all said and done, I was pretty proud of how I had handled it, but in the moment?  No, definitely not the word I would use to describe my feelings.

So, I ask you again...

Sweet little angel?

Or devil in disguise?

One Box

The first time I ever drove up and parked in front of the white cinder block building with blue awnings, I thought to myself "No way am I working here."

Almost six years later, I drove up and parked in the same lot...further away this time, considering the company has gone from a little over 50 employees to a little over 100 employees in my time there.

I knew today would be hard.  I'm not going to pretend all of the sudden like this was my dream job.  I'm not going to live in a fantasy world where I never had any complaints or conflicts with this place.  Nevertheless, I still knew it would be hard to walk away.  If it were easy, I'd probably have done it long before today.

The day started like any other, except I barely had any emails to check, since all of my clients have been transferred to other account managers.  I had nothing to say in the morning meeting because my jobs are all being handled by other people.

And then as my desk became more and more sparse, the reality of it started setting in.

This place that I've been at every day for the last 5+ years, would no longer be part of my life.  These people that I spend more time with than I do members of my family, would no longer tell me their stories.

The first time I ever drove up and parked in front of the white cinder block building with blue awnings I was 27, planning my wedding and excited about a new job and new life in Richmond.

Today, almost six years later, I walk away, married, mom of 2, nervous about what lies ahead and carrying just one box.  Just one box filled with the memories and trinkets of my most recent career.

Life Advice from Freddie

When you are standing at the computer table talking to mommy about your day and the newest baby in your class, make sure you hold on the whole time.  Talking with your hands is not recommended if you can't actually stand on your own.  If you let go, this might happen.

I'm not sure if you can make it out, but there's a little bruise on my forehead.

Also, if you're trying to climb on the end table while mommy's cooking dinner, even though she has moved you from it 7 times, said "NO" - whatever that means and distracted you with all of your toys, try and remember that you aren't actually tall enough or strong enough to get your legs that high yet.  If not, this might happen.

That wound on my nose should keep me safe on the play mat tomorrow.  I'll just tell them how bad the other guy looked.

Next, try and realize that you are not a puppy dog.  And even though the puppy dogs can drink water with their faces, you can not.  You will choke and cough and spill water all over the clothes that mommy has just dressed you in.  I'm pretty sure she doesn't like doing things over and over again.  I'm not really sure what else she has to do all day but hold me, but whatever...she didn't seem super happy about it.  Sorry, no picture of this one...but believe me it's really bad and water up your nose is not fun.

Finally, if you can, get yourself one of these.  She threw such a temper tantrum tonight that I'm pretty sure mommy will let me get away with just about anything as long as I stay cute and sweet and far, far away from that third birthday.  Plus, she's freaking funny - maybe I should rent her out.

To the Stop Sign and Back

Our tree is dead.

I mean, I guess technically all Christmas trees are dead, since they are cut down and are no longer attached to their roots.  But our tree?  It's really dead, really dry and hasn't drank any of the water we've provided.  Needless to say I'm eager to get it out as I pull the the last strand of lights from it's brittle branches.

Clif is outside preparing his roof rack for the tree and Ainsley is anxiously dancing at the window in her bare feet.

Mommy, can I go outside?  Please can I go mommy?

I don't let Ainsley go outside without me.  On the few occasions that I've let her stay in the front yard while I run in to grab forgotten keys or glasses, my mind races about all the horrible things that could happen to her while I'm not watching.  She could run into the street and be hit by a car (we live on a cul-de-sac).  She could fall on the concrete steps/sidewalk and bust her lip (she mastered the stairs 2 years ago).  Someone could take her (I'm pretty sure she'd scream).  Of course, any of these things could happen, they just aren't very likely to occur in the 3 seconds it takes me to run into the house and grab my purse.

Since Clif is outside, even though he's busy, I allow it.  For 6 months now, I've been watching kids alone while cleaning house, working, scrap booking, cooking, etc.  He can probably manage to watch our three year old while putting the tree on the roof of his car.

Put on your shoes I say.

She rushes to her room singing a made up song along the way and emerges in her UGG boots.  They were a Christmas gift from Uncle Cam last year.  They're a little small this year, but she loves them and they're so cute.  If not for very cool and hip Aunts and Uncles, I'm pretty sure my kids would never have designer labels.  I am not a designer label kind of gal.

She rushes out the open front door yelling Daddy, I'm coming outside as she goes.  It's an incredibly warm day for January 1st, so the door stays open and I can hear her make believe play as I pack away the last few Christmas decorations.

Not 10 minutes later, Ainsley and Clif return to pull the tree out of the house, through the yard and up on the roof rack.  I scoop up Freddie and follow them outside.

Ainsley runs for her tricycle saying Mommy, I'm doeing to work now.  You stay here with Freddie.  I'm doeing to work.

This is one of Ainsley's favorite games.  For her to be the mommy and go to work.  I remember when she first created this make believe scenario.  It was right about the time Clif lost his job and she was watching me leave for work every day.  She was about 19 months old.  We'd be outside and in her developing baby talk she'd say I sowwy, I ave to doe.  Then she'd kiss me goodbye, climb in her little car, move about 5 inches forward, then excitedly look back and say I home now!

I guess at the time, that's what it was like for her.  She'd cry when I left and my heart would break, but in her world, I always came back so soon.  And in between she had daddy to entertain her.

However, today, she gets on her trike and heads down the driveway, right into the street.  Ainsley is not allowed in the street without me.  I open my mouth to stop her, but then I pause.  And the memory of her going just a couple of inches and then returning floods my mind.  Jumping out of the car and running over to throw her little baby arms around me because she was finally home.  She ventures further away from me now...confident and unafraid. 

I am proud of this.  We have taught her to be confident.  We have not scared her away from living.  So instead of calling her back and explaining that we do not go in the street without mommy.  I walk down the driveway and give her new limitations.

Ainsley, do you see the red sign?  She nods. You're not allowed past the red sign.  If I see you go past the red sign, we go inside and you're not allowed to ride your bike anymore.

I have just increased her world immensely.  She excitedly peddles off and I return to my spot on the front step.  Yes, I am proud...but the weight of this one moment strikes me.  Where has that sweet little baby gone?  How did she become so big, so fast?  How will I be able to give her the space she needs without my heart breaking?  What will happen to me when she doesn't need me anymore?

She peddles right up to the STOP sign and looks back at me.  I motion for her to come back towards me and she immediately does.

She leaves her bike at the bottom of the driveway and runs excitedly towards me.

Mommy!  Mommy!  I did it!  I only went to the red sign and then I come back to you!

I smile at this huge accomplishment for her and giggle as I look down and see those little UGGs on the wrong feet.

Beginning of the End

Soooo...Clif just left, like he always does on Sundays.

There have been times when he's left that I sit and cry with the weight of the coming week.  Worried about how I'll get it all done and still be standing when he returns on Friday.  There have been times that I've waited for him to leave so I could accomplish something, not wanting to clean out closets or run errands while we're having limited family time.  There have been times that I've been so busy when he leaves and I continue to be so busy through the week, that he's back before I have time to miss him.

This time felt a bit different.  His leaving signaled the beginning of the end.  This starts the last week we'll live separately, my last week at my current job, the kids' last week at daycare, our last week in our house, our last week in Richmond.

I think my emotions are confused right now.  On one hand, I'm kind of relieved that this will be my last week alone.  It hasn't always been easy and I have a new found, deep respect for single mothers out there.  I've had a small glimpse of their struggles, and I'm very impressed with anyone who does this long term, 24/7.

On the other hand, this event that I've been dreading for so long is now just a few days away.  I'm just not sure how I'm actually going to come out on the other side of this.  I know I'll handle it, whether I like it or not.  I have to.  But I just wonder...will I be content or satisfied or happy?  Or will I allow this horrible knot in the pit of my stomach to stay and take up permanent residence?

I don't want to be bitter or resentful about my life.  It's really not a good way to live, so I'm really aiming for the former.  So this week, I know I'm going to be feeling sappy and sad and sorry for myself.  It's probably going to come out a lot here.  Just know that I know how bad it sounds.  My hope is that in a few weeks, or months, or whenever, I'll be able to look back and see this inner struggle and say "It's okay.  We did make the right decision and I am happy."

Fingers crossed.

I See Trouble in the New Year

Trouble is spelled F-R-E-D-D-I-E.  He is on the move...

I guess it's time to pull out the baby gates again.  I feel like we just stopped using them for Ainsley, now Freddie's ready for them.

We spent New Year's Even in Gloucester with our friends Julie and Todd and their two little girls Katherine and Claire.  Julie and I lived together after college and we had some wild New Years Eve celebrations.  Now our get-togethers are just as wild, but in a whole new way.  These four munchkins have made sure of that.

Happy New Year all.  I hope 2011 has wonderful things in store for you.