Craft time

In the past, I've been accused of being a bit like Martha Stewart. I guess I can see that, but I don't take it as an insult at all. I like to play with the kids and that often includes working on projects. Sometimes we cook together, sometimes we paint or make an art project- I like to do those sorts of things with the kids. I have really fond memories of making things with my mom, and I hope one day the kids have their own great memories about our crafty times together.

Our most recent project was a rainbow cake:

Doesn't it look yummy?

Little Miss Caitlyn had so much fun helping to mix the colors, and naturally, she ate quite a bit of the batter in the process. Her only disappointment came from the fact that I did not get out the electric mixer. Her Grammie let her start helping in the kitchen when she was right around a year old, and I was informed that Grammie ALWAYS lets her use the mixer. It makes me really nervous, so I just skip it when Caitlyn is helping, and we mix by hand, much to her dismay.

Lorelei also had a lot of fun, even if all she got to do was watch Caitlyn and I make the cake. I put some puffs on her tray, and she was perfectly content to sit, eat, and watch. Catilyn made sure to tell Lorelei repeatedly that she is just too little to cook.

Want to know a little secret about the cake? It is a Weight Watchers cake. I don't use weight watchers, but I was intrigued when I saw the recipe on a website. All you do for the cake is mix a 12 ounce diet soda with a boxed cake mix and bake as directed. For the frosting, you mix a small box of instant sugar free pudding with a tub of light cool whip. To make it a rainbow cake, we just divided the batter, added gel food coloring, and layered the different colors.  I was really surprised when the cake actually tasted pretty good. Maybe being so colorful makes it taste better?

Oh, and one more little secret about the cake . . . you will poop lots of colors after eating it. Trust me. Caitlyn studied and pointed out each one in the potty, which means you could also use this cake as a potty training incentive and a lesson on colors. Now THAT is multitasking!

Losing oneself, or just a change?

These pictures make me smile. They mark the most profound transition in my life- becoming a mama. Looking at the pictures, I can see how much I have changed. It might not be obvious to others, other than eyes that are a bit more tired now, but for me I can almost see these pictures as representing entirely different beings I have been.

Once you become a mom, it seems as though you lose little pieces of who you are. Actually, it is not so much that you lose those pieces, just that parts of you are overshadowed by the importance and magnitude of being wholly responsible for another human being. The moment when THAT hits you is unlike any other in your life. Pardon the language (I've been reading a lot of George Carlin), but it is a definite, "Holy shit, can I handle this?" moment.

I think the enormity of motherhood hit me when Caitlyn was just a few days old. I got a call from Josh's daycare because he was very ill and needed to be picked up. Jason was in a meeting without cell phone reception, and the daycare could not find Josh's mom. I wasn't supposed to drive, so I called my friend Kenzie to go with me to pick up Josh. On our way there, the car behind us got frighteningly close to our rear bumper. I assume the driver wasn't paying attention to the fact that we were stopping and had to slam on his brakes, accompanied by squealing tires and a near miss. 

I immediately began to unbuckle my seatbelt, and I guess I would have gotten out of the car had Kenzie not asked me what in the world I was doing. Honestly, I have no idea what I was doing. Maybe I was going to yell at the guy or point out that he came way too close to hitting a car with my brand new baby daughter in it. Who knows? I certainly wasn't thinking- I was just on autopilot and some idiot had just put my precious girl in potential jeopardy. The mothering instinct just took over!

While I think I have done a reasonably good job of not falling into the "all mommy, all the time" trap, there are still days that I glimpse myself in a tshirt with a jelly splotch, hair pulled into a clip, working on a craft project, and I think, "Wow, I'm a mom." There are things that I never knew I would think of as cool or enjoyable- a trip to the circus, a playdate with other moms and kids, driving a big SUV instead of a cute little car, and (don't laugh) the High School Musical movies.

I try to do the things that have always been fun. I'll go out for a night with the girls, albeit a tamer night than in years past. I still love to travel. I love a day at the spa. I still like to read and learn and shop and create. These days I just do it a little bit differently, and I can turn into a Mama Bear in a split second because I am constantly aware of what is going on with my little girls. 

Being a mom is different, it's a change, but I love it.

Chicken Sticks

I have to admit, when it comes to the foods I let the kids eat, I can be pretty picky. Not only am I concerned about their health, but I have two stepsons who are extremely P.I.C.K.Y eaters, and it can make mealtime difficult. (Not that it is their fault- they have a mom who is somewhat culinarily challenged and has a penchant for fast food, but it is awfully hard to feed kids who only want pasta or something from a take out bag.)

Since Caitlyn was just learning to eat, Jason and I have always tried to get her to try new things. She is a pretty adventurous eater and, among other things, likes hummus, most vegetables, seafood, sushi (just California role), spicy food, and all sorts of cheeses.  She really loves to go to Trader Joe's, where her favorite products are the black truffle flatbread, cheese curds, edamame, and any type of risotto.  The looks that we get when she asks for risotto are priceless.

Lorelei is shaping up to be quite the little eater, too. She wants nothing to do with anyone feeding her, but she will try anything as long as she can be the one to shovel it in her mouth! Some of her more unusual favorites are pickles, lemons, and celery.

I really love to cook, and I *mostly* make nutritious, homemade food for our family. Even when we were in the baby food stage, I steamed, mashed, blended and froze almost all of the baby food the girls ate. It was easy, and I could ensure that they were getting a pure meal made with excellent produce or ingredients.

However, as any mom knows, there are days when you just want something quick and easy for your kids to munch on. Nutritional value takes a slight backseat to simply being more convenient on those days that everyone is busy, the kids are cranky, Mama is tired and Daddy has a late class. In our house, this means one of a couple of different standbys, mostly things like baked chicken nuggets, a quick burger or tacos, or take out for those of us with teeth.  

For Lorelei, this means one of the most disgusting sounding and smelling things I've knowingly allowed my kids to eat- chicken sticks. These foul little things are packaged in a jar, cushioned by  gelatinous goo that reminds me of cat food. The ingredient list is not terrible, but these things are one very small step up from vienna sausage. And they stink. Big time stink. So, I rinse them off under running water before I give them to her. How does Lorelei feel about them? She loves them, just the same as Caitlyn and Josh both did. In fact, I'm sure that in his first year, Chris loved them also. 

I, on the other hand, hate them other than the fact that they are convenient. Just imagine nursing a baby who has devoured a couple of these lovely chicken sticks. It doesn't matter how thoroughly I wash Lorelei's hands and face, the stench of these things lingers until after a true bath.  So, I end up with what I like to call chicken boob- lovely female breast adorned with just a hint of smelly chicken stick slobber. Just writing that made me gag a bit. 

Luckily, once Lorelei has drifted off to sleep after eating, I can quickly rinse off and rid myself of the chicken curse.  And luckily, she only has the foul (or fowl?) things about once a week when our schedule is really tight.

I wonder if this will be one of the things I look back on with fondness? Somehow, I think not.

Caitlyn's First Love

I think that Caitlyn is destined to be a flirt. Everywhere we go, she charms the people she meets. She loves to give hugs, especially to little boys.  She likes to pretend to go to dances, and she sings little love songs all day long. Her favorite boy changes all the time. Mostly it is Daddy, but sometimes it is one of her brothers, PawPaw, a friend named Josh, or even the cat.

However, there is one boy who is always in her thoughts- her Andy. Caitlyn loves Andy. She talks about him all the time, she grins and giggles when his name comes up, and she loves to see him. Sometimes, when she hears a knock at our front door, she cries out, "Andy?" in her tiny, hopeful little voice. When Andy is around, Caitlyn wants to be near him. She will also go about her own business, playing and prancing, but inevitably she will run back to Andy for a hug or to show him something she has found. Of course, this is only after she has gone through the shy routine. When she first sees him, Caitlyn will hide her eyes or fall to the ground in a sort of little girl swoon. Ahh, the thrill of a girl's first love.

After Lorelei was born, we told Caitlyn that Andy was coming over to meet her new baby sister. Caitlyn marched over to one-month old Lorelei, peered down at her, and said in the most indignant voice I've ever heard pass her lips, "It's not YOUR Andy, baby Lorelei. It's MY Andy."

Did I mention that Andy is an adult? No? Well, he is a friend of ours that attends law school with Jason. He is just an all-around nice guy, obviously successful, and one of the guys that half of the girls at the school have their eye on. So, at least Caitlyn has good taste. I always feel bad for him because he constantly has to endure stories from us and our other friends about Caitlyn- how she talks about him, how she reserves his seat (by her, of course) when we all go out to eat, etc. Andy takes it all in stride. He watches out for Caitlyn, pays attention to her (even when she is showing him the sixteenth leaf from the ground), and always walks her out to our car when it is time to leave.

Yesterday, we went to help out at a benefit run that Andy was heading up. When we told Caitlyn that Andy was going to be there, she was thrilled. In fact, she asked me, "Mama, can I wear my twirling dress so maybe Andy will dance with me?"  Like I said, she loves Andy.

I know that her first real love will come along in a few years, and we will have to let her go just a little bit. I know he will probably be some teenage punk because, let's face it, most teenage boys are punks. And I'm sure that Jason and I will hate letting her go anywhere with him. And at some point, I'm sure he will cause her grief and tears because, let's face it, most teenage punks do things like that.  And we will look back on the days when Andy was her crush wistfully, longingly because these are the days when her love is sweet and innocent, and we don't really have to let her go, not even a tiny bit.

Determined little thing

Our little red head is vigorous. She began crawling right at 6 months old, and she has been going strong ever since. Now she is moving on to pulling up, standing and crawling on top of things.

When she sees something she wants, she will not stop until she gets it. This goes for her sister's toys, her kitty, random objects laying on the floor, her pacifier . . . oh, and mama.  This morning I was sitting with Caitlyn while she ate breakfast. Jason had Lorelei in our bedroom while he was getting ready for school.  Well, little Miss Lorelei was not happy. She was fussing and talking, and after all of the usual rituals failed to soothe her, Jason put her down on the floor to see what she would do. 

Imagine how my heart swelled with love when she began crawling straight to me.  She would go forward a couple of steps, stop, reach out to me with one little pudgy hand, and cry, "Mamamamama!" I watched her for a moment, and then I rushed to scoop her up for some Mama snuggles. Poor little girl just buried her face in my neck and grasped my arm with her tiny fingers. Moments like that just make my day!

Tinkerbell invaded our house

Caitlyn is one of the most creative kids I've ever met. Some days she is pretending to own a restaurant, some days she plays school, some days she is going on an airplane ride with her imaginary friends- you name it, and I bet she has acted it out!  Her play is also very elaborate. If she is on an airplane, she will have tickets (just pieces of paper), a magazine, a seat, headphones and she wants to eat a snack out of a package, just like on the plane.  

I love watching her play, especially for these two reasons:  1. She takes me back to my own childhood- I remember how much fun it is to act out the world around you.  2. It is just thrilling to watch her little personality at work. In her play, she imitates a lot of what she sees, but she throws in little twists to make everything her own.

After our Disney trip last week, she has taken to playing Tinkerbell. It began with a little plastic ice cube that we got at one of the restaurants at Disneyland. It glows all sorts of colors, one of which is green. Caitlyn carried this glowing, green plastic cube around for days, insisting that it was Tinkerbell, all the while singing, "You can fly, you can fly, you can flllllyyyyyy!"

Just as with any game she plays, it became more and more elaborate. First, bubbles in the bathtub became pixie dust. Then, she dug a fairy costume out of the dress up box, so she could be one of Tinkerbell's friends. Finally, she requested that I do her hair just like Tinkerbell. Anyone who knows 2 year olds knows that there is some sort of magic at work when you can get one to sit still long enough to fashion a bun! Of course, after I finished the bun, Caitlyn informed me that it wasn't quite right- I did not make bangs, and Tinkerbell, if you didn't know, has bangs.  Sigh.

However, even without bangs, my little fairy was thrilled with her hair. So thrilled, in fact, that she has requested Tinkerbell hair the last three mornings. After her hair is done, she grabs her magic wand and flies through the house singing in her sweet little girl voice. 

Did I mention I love to watch her play? 

Sigh.

It used to be that I loved to watch the baby shows on television- A Baby Story, Special Delivery, you know the ones. Who doesn't love to see new life? 

When I was pregnant with Caitlyn, I was on bedrest for 11 weeks, so I watched (and got sick of!) lots of different shows, but the baby shows never got old. It never occurred to me to pay attention to the typical pattern that the majority of the births followed. Then, I had Caitlyn via a totally needless c-section, and I began to see the new reality of obstetrics. 

Here's the general plot for at least 50% of those shows:  Mom is 39 weeks pregnant and tired of pregnancy. Doctor makes comments about a "big" baby or is just willing to induce for whatever reason. Pitocin is given. Membranes are artificially ruptured. Mom gets an epidural and can't feel a thing. Mom labors for a bit, fails to progress and the doc calls for a section. Mom sees baby over the sheet in the OR for 15 seconds before baby is whisked away, and Mom must lay there, strapped down, while she is stitched up.

Not necessary. Abuse of power. Ridiculous. Alarming. Those are the words that come to mind for me. 

When I examined the circumstances of Caitlyn's delivery, I began to get angry. I had a picture perfect labor- arrived at the hospital in a great labor pattern, got an epidural at 6 cm, and was dilated to 10 cm 2 hours later. I saw the doctor one time as he arrived to break my water. After I was fully dilated, Jason and I were left to push for about an hour with only sporadic checks by a nurse. I could not feel a thing and had no idea if I was doing what I was supposed to be doing. Finally, the doctor came in to check on me, watched me push for one contraction, and said I was too small to deliver and needed a c section.  Busy maternity floor, holiday weekend, near the end of the regular shift- it was almost laughable.  The experience was awful, but for the beautiful, wonderfully perfect little girl who was there at the end.

When I became pregnant with Lorelei, I faced an uphill battle in my quest for my ideal birth. The c section rate in our country is sky high- much higher than is necessary or even safe. 30% of births take place in an operating room. The VBAC rate in our country is tiny- only 2 mothers out of 10 will have a VBAC. In some areas, it is literally impossible to have anything other than a repeat c section in subsequent pregnancies.

At every prenatal appointment, I was lectured at and questioned about my decision to VBAC. I knew that the success of avoiding the OR on delivery date had almost everything to do with which of the 4 doctors in the practice was on call when I went into labor- two were VERY against it, one was VERY supportive, and one was neutral.

In the end, nature worked beautifully. Water broke, got to the hospital at 5 cm, had a really powerful, intense 25 minutes, and then I was ready to push at 10 cm. I had no time for any sort of drug, and that feeling was amazing (and nearly overwhelming during transition!). I pushed for 3 hours with a very patient, dedicated doctor and nurse (average time for a first delivery is 2 hours), and in the end I was rewarded with the perfect birth- a gorgeous baby, a huge sense of accomplishment, awe in what my body had done, and a husband who thought I was the world's most amazing woman.  What an experience!

Now, I don't watch the baby shows. I can't stand the fear and coercion that accompanies so many births. I hate the mistrust of such a natural process, although I praise the interventions that are used appropriately. Most of all, I hate how many women are left out of decisions that affect their bodies.