L

Little things...

If you have read this blog long enough, you know my kids love the little things. Pouring colored water, playing with water beads or colored rice. Simple things, simple play, that make fun memories.  Throwing glow sticks in a bath tub at night- they love it!  "Painting" with colored shaving cream in the tub. Fun for all.

(*** NOTE: doing colored anything, food coloring goes a LONG way- I use only 1 drop for most "colored" play we do. Only colored rice takes a LOT of food coloring, everything else is a drop or two.) 

I love finding simple ideas, for imaginative play, and my kids are really developing their imagination.  Here are a couple other things they love.  Things I do for them, that they appreciate.  Things I had no idea, brought them so much joy, until they started asking me to repeat these little things for them. Things that, over time, will fade.

Really, it is in the little things....

1. Setting up 20 of Calista's 23 penguins on her bed.  You can really see her joy.  She totally finds it amazing for all her Peng-Pengs to be lines up on her bed.  (OK, penguins, a puffin, a couple kitties, and any one recognize the little girl stuffed animal? CC holds her and says, "Bust'em, Bust'Em, Bust 'em!"

20 of 23 Penguins



CC's joy

2. Connor's Stuffed Friends....Grey Kitty, Meow-Meow, New Grey Kitty, Meow-Meow, baby Kitty Meow-meow, Woody, Buzz, Hippo (no longer named Pua-Pua-Pie), his snake and his beloved B

Carson, CC's Favorite Penguin
Grey Kitty, Meow-Meow, baby Kitty, and B with Connor

3. About once a week, I try to set up a toy for them to explore. Some days it's resetting the train table a little different, or placing the Weebles out to play.  Monday, Connor asked me to do something with his hot wheels, and CC wanted help with her doll house. Here was the set-up....

I have a rule of all toys need to be put away at night, last night they were placed in their proper baskets and cubbies. That was until Mommy played with them.  I think I have watched Toy Story too make times; I love the idea of the Toys playing when the own is away or asleep.  Jeff asked me if the kids even notice or say anything when I do this.  The answer is yes.  CC will go to the toys she wants, clasp her little hand over her mouth exclaiming, "OH MY GOODNESS!"  They she plays, and imagines and asks me to play too.  Connor, LOVES seeing all his cars out. He did not want CC to touch a thing. He will then choose a few to use on the train tracks or something else. 

So, why would I do this? I have no idea, except it brings the kids joy. It is fun to watch what toy group they go to, or how their play evolves with what I set up.  It is silly, but again... it's the little things that bring the kids joy. In turn, it brings me JOY seeing them happy.  One can never have enough joy...

J and K

A two for one! Since J and K have been neighbors, since the invention of our alphabet, I think it's okay they share a blog post. And since J (Jeff) and K (Kim) have been inseparable since 1992; it just makes sense.

I sat here thinking, I know I typed out how Jeff and I met.  I would have sworn I even posted it, yet I did not.  I did type it up, but never posted the blog.  You see... We met when I was 17.  Back in the days before cell-phones, facebook, or anything.  I was raised right and proper and I was a good kid. However, there is no way in hell I should have been 2 States away going to a strange party with Vampires and Cock-fighting (that happened after we left).  No, I had to clean up how Jeff and I met.  The "clean" version involving playing billiards at "Jups" in Clifton. I'm 98% sure I did not come clean to my Mom about how Jeff and I really met, until we were engaged. Really, by then it was a white lie.  But, in December of 1992, the truth would have ended my teenage social life for a really LONG time.

Here is the truth as I recall it. Some of the innocent will go by initials, others - well, you didn't get so lucky.

My senior year of high school, a good friend, R, and I found ourselves interested in music. We both enjoyed classic rock and really LOVED the hair bands of the 80's/90's and some alternative...really we liked music. We went to a local club to listen to their "Battle of the Bands" competition, it was mostly early 90's heavy metal stuff. We did our best to blend in, exchanging our Catholic Girl uniforms for black jeans and sheer tops.  One weekend Battle of the Bands, in November/December 1992, some guy was handing out flyers. The flyer was for a party, it gave instructions and looked pretty nondescript. 

So, weeks go by. Christmas arrived, and that evening, R called and we made plans to go out the next night, December 26, to the "band" party. Luckily, R had her own car so she drove. She picked me up, I'm pretty sure I told my Mom we were going out somewhere to play pool or see a band.

The directions said to follow 275 (the loop around Cincinnati), and we did...going from Ohio to Kentucky....from Kentucky to INDIANA?! What in the world?! We just figured we were going to a barn party in Kentucky. But, NOPE we saw "Welcome to Indiana!" As we crossed into the next state I knew both of us were thinking the same thing, "Our parents are going to kill us."


We pulled up and parked on the street by this house. I promptly stepped out of the car, stepped on a patch of ice, and fell directly to my butt. Nice first impression, huh? I arrived at this heavy metal band party wearing my black jeans, black half boots, green silk top- buttoned to the top button - as seen on 90210 or Saved By The Bell, and my permed hair was perfectly scrunched with gel, and my bangs perfectly placed to the side. Yes, I was looking good -- you know despite my issues with ice and gravity.

I remember walking into this house being COMPLETELY overwhelmed with the feeling of "WHAT THE HELL DID WE DO?!" Immediately, R found a friend, Matt, and Matt's friend Jeff. Oh, and this guy who said he was a vampire. He offered me a liquor soaked cherry that I promptly gobbled up refused (my mother taught me to not eat cherries soaked in liquor before my 21st birthday). Vampire dude was weird. A lanky tall white guy with long black hair (dyed I am sure). He looked like he just stepped out of a cheap version of the movie, Lost Boys. ANYWAY----

So, Matt and Jeff were hanging in a hallway and talking. Somehow, I got dumped on them while R mingled to find some other people she knew. Besides that cherry, I did not have anything else to drink that night; I was the driver. I was 100% sober. Now, back to Matt and Jeff.

Matt, Jeff and I stood there for hours talking. Talking about what? I have no idea. I cannot remember one bit of conversation. However, when the night came to an end, Matt suggested I give Jeff my number. This Jeff guy... yikes... Tall, thin, black, longish hair, and a crustashe (one of those nasty 5 haired mustaches you see on 16 year old boys that drive trans-ams/cameros/ any 1980's muscle car -- commonly also seen on people with mullets.  And no, Jeff, you cannot get mad at that comment, it was NOT a good look for you. I was so HAPPY when you shaved off those 5 hairs- THANK YOU!).

Back to the story, I was unsure I wanted this "roadie" with the band to have my number. Alas, I conceded to give it to him. Jeff had me write my number on the back of a coupon, with the understanding that if this did not work out, he'd still have his $1.00 Skyline coupon.

A few days later, Jeff called me.  We talked for awhile, a LONG while. He seemed to be a nice guy. I agreed to go out and see a movie.  Our movie of choice was Under Seige; it was playing at the $1.50 theater. (Nothing says romance like watching Steven Seagle save a submarine full of people.)   Jeff pulled up (he drove 22 miles from his house to mine), in a yellow 1985ish Camero.  I know, sweet ride, huh? Did I mention it had T-tops???  He came in to meet my Mom, my Gramma, and my Grandpa.  Apparently he seemed OK, as my family let me leave the house with him.

I remember our first date was awkward for us both.  We talked a lot, we had similar taste in music. We learned we grew up a few streets away from each other (before his family moved away), we knew the same kids. He played on my street with my neighbors. It's likely we even knew each other as kids. He graduated from an All Boys Catholic school, we knew the same people from there - he even knew people I went to gymnastics with. 

How I found this guy in Indiana, and our paths had already crossed so many times, yet we did not know each other - was  mystery of the Universe. I should have realized then, that there was a plan for us, and that we were not always in control of the timeline.

And THAT is where we started.... this year we will celebrate 20 years together...and I wish we still had that Yellow Camero.

The Coupon and first movie ticket

Our First Dance in February 1993

Our First Dance as a Married Couple September 23, 2000

I

Nothing like trying to do an alphabet style blog and the next letter comes around and I think, "I? What starts with I?"  Truthfully, I even googled "words that begin with the letter I."  Then, last night, as I went to lay myself down to sleep, a word - beginning with the letter I- popped into my held. I gave myself a mental head slap.

My reality in 2007

Infertility.  Seriously, it's in the title of the blog and I could not come up with that word for almost a week. My mind is just racing with other things like, "Why will CC not poop on the potty consistently?" and " Does Connor hear what I am saying to him, or do I sound like the teacher from the Peanuts when I talk? Wah- Wah-, wa-wa-WAH..."

Infertility, the dead horse I keep beating, and the stupid thing keeps living. Infertility is like a zombie, it never seems to die, it just moves onto it's next victims - maybe that makes it more like a tape worm? Either way it is an uninvited guest that feeds off of PCOS, low sperm counts or mobility, crappy eggs, un-inviting uteruses, unexplained issues, and just sucks the joy out of baby making. I think it might also feed on happiness, joy, hope, prayer, love, and life.  It seems like it feeds until all of those emotions are a distant memory; while you walk around feeling a shell of yourself.  Your life begins to revolve around cycles, blood work, injections, ultrasounds, sperm collecting/cleaning, counting follicles, ovulation, IUI/IVF/ICSI, etc... You begin to wonder if it will ever work, or if you will ever feel yourself again. If you will ever be a parent.

I have said time and time before, that I was OK with going through our journey in the hell that is infertility.  I was just hoping if I went though it, none of my friends or family would be affected. Instead it seems like we are patient 0, having infected our friends and some family members with infertility. It sucks. I HATE hearing stories of some one else going to my doctor. He's a great doc, but I just wish things were going smooth so NO ONE ELSE needs to use him.

Having been to Church a bunch this Easter season,  I have listened to all our Easter readings and Gospels.  You know the one where Jesus goes into the desert and is tempted by the devil?  I have this feeling that infertility is the devils work, not God. It's just like that temptation in the desert, and the infertile couple yelling at God, "Why have you Forsaken me?" Whereas, God (or the higher power in which you believe) has been at your side the whole time, trying to help you fight the devil that is infertility.  God bestowed the gifts upon our smart RE's to help us fight that devil, he/she gave us the strength we needed to endure another failed cycle, more blood work, more drugs. So, with my deep thought of yesterday, infertility is a level of Hell - not a punishment from above.

Remember YOU have not done ANYTHING wrong to deserve this. "You is kind. You is smart. You is important." Thanks, Aibleen from The Help.

What is from above is that child who is still waiting for you. Knowing one day YOU will be his or her parent.  Always remember, your child IS waiting for you.

Deep, huh? Sorry, to keep bringing up the infertility journey, but I just know so many people still on it.  It's like I have a moment where I feel everyone is good, then I get a call, or a text or an email of someone asking me for my doctor's phone number, or advise. Just knocks the wind out of my sails knowing someone else gets to journey though hell to be a parent.  It is just.not.fair.

To my friends still knee deep in a cycle, or just beginning this journey, you are NOT alone.  There is an army of us here to support you. And even though we do not know you, we keep you in our heart hoping you win the infertility battle quickly.

After a 7 year battle, these two were worth every blood draw, failed cycle, and tear.

H

Happiness is....A husband that knows after a rough day, you might need this...

That was actually in response to me commenting how while he prepared the kids milks for the morning, he did not prepare cocktails for me after work.  Oh, wise husband not only made the kids their "white" and "straw" milk, he was also looking out for my after work needs.  He's a sweet guy.

Happiness is... Sharing Opening Day with each other.

Happiness is...celebrating a perfect potty day with blue moo ice cream and a trip to the park.

Happiness is....Snuggling with the ones you love.

Happiness is... Seeing the sun rise to share another day with our family and friends.

Happiness is... writing a post only using pictures I have taken on my I-phone.  It seems, I only take pictures of  happy moments!

For my friends this weekend Happy Easter, and have a nice Passover.

G

Game Day.......
Tomorrow, is Opening Day for our Cincinnati Redlegs. If you are not from here, lemme tell you THIS is a BIG DEAL.  How it is not a city wide holiday, I will never know. People sure act like it is! Cincinnati is full of baseball history, in fact we have great baseball artifacts hanging like art, in our basement.

As a kid, I remember other kids in school skipping class to attend opening day. One day, I am SURE, that will happen for Connor and CC.  I missed enough school for Gymnastics meets; I was never able to miss for Opening Day. Plus, my Mom was more a football fan than baseball, and I followed in her footsteps.

My Grandpa would sit on the porch listening to games - rain or shine. You would also catch my Gramma watching games on TV.  Those two were fans and they loved the Reds.  And I married a huge baseball fan, and my son loves the sport.

Me, well, I try. I like going to games, but I hardly watch the game.  I know there are 3 strikes and you're out, 3 outs in an inning and 9 innings to a regular game. In my opinion, it should end after 7, as my attention span for baseball seriously wanes after  5 to 7 innings. I have tried, really hard, for about 19 years to like the game. I learned the positions on the field and how to keep score (well an easy way that any 8 year old could do). Hell, Jeff even taught me how to use a glove.

Fact is, for me, the game is just slow. It just does not hold my attention. Like my Mom, I'd rather watch football, or Nascar over baseball. Heck, I think I even prefer bull riding over baseball. (Typing this is like admitting to a sin - my husband comes from a HUGE baseball family.  Heck, my brother-in-law played college ball, and Jeff even had a try-out with the Yankees (back in the day) I think they have an extra baseball loving allele on a chromosome somewhere).

I keep thinking, maybe if I learn more rules, or begin to appreciate the physics/bio-mechanics associated with baseball I'll enjoy it more. I see the bio-mechanics of a proper swing or pitch.  My mind works that way, I can see a shoulder dip down too far to cause a pop-fly, or an elbow not at the proper angle for a good trajectory on a pitch. Yet, it's still not my thing.

What I love about that sport is, being able to hang with our friends, enjoy a beautiful spring/summer day/night, drink a beer, and eat some ballpark pretzels. THAT is what has me coming back to the ball park.  While I might not follow a game or have any idea who's on first, I still go to the park. Jeff and our buddy, Scott, even talked me into going to Spring Training one year. It was a bunch of fun, I could not tell you one thing about the baseball there - but- the company, the sunshine and the beer was lovely. 

Even after me admitting all this, I will still be attending Opening Day. I will still have a great time, and I doubt I will have any idea what is going on during the game.  But, I will try, I will keep trying...

Let's Play Ball!

Spring Training 2008

Jeff and I at Spring Training

Scott and I, with my foam finger, at Spring Training

Connor showing my where he is going to play when he gets big
(that is our Stadium in the background)

My baseball loving family
At least the Jersey's are a nice Red color...