The family. We are a little band of characters trudging through life, sharing diseases and toothpaste, coveting one another's desserts, hiding shampoo, borrowing money, locking each other out of our rooms, inflicting pain and kissing to heal it in the same instant, loving, laughing, defending, and trying to figure out the common thread that binds us all together.
Monday, July 23, 2012
Teeth
Because I haven't already posted enough today, I need to add just one more thing:
This past Thursday, tiny William Walden had two teeth. Today, he has five. Five! (Three more teeth with which to assault my nipples, but we are all very excited for him nonetheless!)
This past Thursday, tiny William Walden had two teeth. Today, he has five. Five! (Three more teeth with which to assault my nipples, but we are all very excited for him nonetheless!)
Leo. For 2 hours and 56 minutes, I have tried to get Leo to take a nap. I have tried every trick I know, every advice column "Do" & "Don't." I have failed...at it all. Finally, ignoring him for hours and hours on end got old and Leo just snuck out. I continued to ignore him. He curled up next to me. I didn't lay eyes on him. And ninety seconds later, he was snoring. Relieved, I am, yes. But what am I doing wrong?
Recently, I told Adam that I don't know how to be the Mom that Leo needs right now. (These kinds of comments are the reason the boys won't be able to read this until they are grown. Perhaps until they have kids of their own.) I try. God knows, I try. God also knows that I love that kid so viciously, I can almost not stand it at times. We need each other. Lately, though, we need each other so much that we need a break from each other.
He wants to be on me all day long. Physically, on me. He completely melts down when he can't get his way, soothed only if I hold him to me really tight for a period of time. (It's much like Leo as a baby. Happiest when we are belly-to-belly. So help me, he would do skin-to-skin all day long if he could.) The way to handle Leo sounds easy. Get down on his level. Don't reason with him. Don't talk to him until he has calmed down. Curse. Curse. Curse. Easier said than done. Friday night, Leo threw a tantrum so badly that he gave himself a black eye flinging the books off his bookshelf. I gave up, not enforcing anything because I was too exhausted, because I had company and didn't want to expose her to endless screaming, and because I felt badly that his life seems like an endless string of discipline at the moment. Curse again. I don't know what to do, aside from pad the walls in his room. Bolt the furniture from the floor. Strap him in his bed at night. Sigh. I'm failing.
It must be said that this is a new phase for Leo. Granted, he has always been stubborn and set in his ways. That much we know. But this temper, this atomic-level-meltdown business is new. And I don't know what set it off. I have been told that it's Middle Child Syndrome, and because I am afflicted with a terrible case of the Catholic Guilts, I think it is all my fault. Maybe we made him a big brother before he was ready? Maybe he needs some more one-on-one? Maybe my approach is only making him worse?
Then again, maybe, just maybe this will pass. Maybe, once this last molar is in, I will get my sweet baby back? This is a steep learning curves, and I am no good at climbing an incline. My baby, my sweet, goofy, funny baby Leo is such an extraordinary kid that I feel badly thinking this, much less posting it. Pray that it passes. Don't judge my baby. And if you see me out and I'm frazzled, sharp-tounged, tearful, or otherwise, don't judge me, either.
For now, I will enjoy the smell of this sweet, snoring, bruised-up-because-he-doesn't-know-his-limits baby. Sweet Leo.
Recently, I told Adam that I don't know how to be the Mom that Leo needs right now. (These kinds of comments are the reason the boys won't be able to read this until they are grown. Perhaps until they have kids of their own.) I try. God knows, I try. God also knows that I love that kid so viciously, I can almost not stand it at times. We need each other. Lately, though, we need each other so much that we need a break from each other.
He wants to be on me all day long. Physically, on me. He completely melts down when he can't get his way, soothed only if I hold him to me really tight for a period of time. (It's much like Leo as a baby. Happiest when we are belly-to-belly. So help me, he would do skin-to-skin all day long if he could.) The way to handle Leo sounds easy. Get down on his level. Don't reason with him. Don't talk to him until he has calmed down. Curse. Curse. Curse. Easier said than done. Friday night, Leo threw a tantrum so badly that he gave himself a black eye flinging the books off his bookshelf. I gave up, not enforcing anything because I was too exhausted, because I had company and didn't want to expose her to endless screaming, and because I felt badly that his life seems like an endless string of discipline at the moment. Curse again. I don't know what to do, aside from pad the walls in his room. Bolt the furniture from the floor. Strap him in his bed at night. Sigh. I'm failing.
It must be said that this is a new phase for Leo. Granted, he has always been stubborn and set in his ways. That much we know. But this temper, this atomic-level-meltdown business is new. And I don't know what set it off. I have been told that it's Middle Child Syndrome, and because I am afflicted with a terrible case of the Catholic Guilts, I think it is all my fault. Maybe we made him a big brother before he was ready? Maybe he needs some more one-on-one? Maybe my approach is only making him worse?
Then again, maybe, just maybe this will pass. Maybe, once this last molar is in, I will get my sweet baby back? This is a steep learning curves, and I am no good at climbing an incline. My baby, my sweet, goofy, funny baby Leo is such an extraordinary kid that I feel badly thinking this, much less posting it. Pray that it passes. Don't judge my baby. And if you see me out and I'm frazzled, sharp-tounged, tearful, or otherwise, don't judge me, either.
For now, I will enjoy the smell of this sweet, snoring, bruised-up-because-he-doesn't-know-his-limits baby. Sweet Leo.
Zaharakos
The Waldens did Zaharakos. Cross that off of our list.
This past Monday, I packed up the boys and headed an hour south to Columbus, Indiana (much to Adam's scrutiny. He doesn't understand why I'd set myself up like that. Since all three of the boys will compete to blood for my affection these days, it could have been disastrous...but it wasn't.) If you have never been to Columbus, I would suggest it. Since taking a "field trip" there in college, it's become one of my most favorite of Indiana towns. It's beautiful, quaint, hosts fantastic architecture, and a really friendly, small-town vibe that I cannot get enough of. (If you don't know, most small towns in the Midwest are likely to end up being dear to my heart. There is just something about small town charm that always makes me feel a little bit at home. Naturally, this led to me calling Adam for a 10-minute persuasion session on why we should move to Columbus. He didn't say yes, but he didn't say no, either.)
Going on, Zaharakos is an Indiana landmark, serving fountain sodas (the real kind!) and homemade ice cream since 1900. It has beautiful, shiny floors and a marble bar. The waitstaff wears bowties and there is mechanical music, which the boys really got a kick out of. In short, this place was the coolest. I foresee a birthday or six here. Here are some photos from our truly excellent little outing. I really love these boys. And I love ice cream. How could this have gone wrong?
This past Monday, I packed up the boys and headed an hour south to Columbus, Indiana (much to Adam's scrutiny. He doesn't understand why I'd set myself up like that. Since all three of the boys will compete to blood for my affection these days, it could have been disastrous...but it wasn't.) If you have never been to Columbus, I would suggest it. Since taking a "field trip" there in college, it's become one of my most favorite of Indiana towns. It's beautiful, quaint, hosts fantastic architecture, and a really friendly, small-town vibe that I cannot get enough of. (If you don't know, most small towns in the Midwest are likely to end up being dear to my heart. There is just something about small town charm that always makes me feel a little bit at home. Naturally, this led to me calling Adam for a 10-minute persuasion session on why we should move to Columbus. He didn't say yes, but he didn't say no, either.)
Going on, Zaharakos is an Indiana landmark, serving fountain sodas (the real kind!) and homemade ice cream since 1900. It has beautiful, shiny floors and a marble bar. The waitstaff wears bowties and there is mechanical music, which the boys really got a kick out of. In short, this place was the coolest. I foresee a birthday or six here. Here are some photos from our truly excellent little outing. I really love these boys. And I love ice cream. How could this have gone wrong?
And because I love a historical point of reference, here is Zaharakos in its (much) earlier days. The table we sat at was the one in the far right with the coat draped over it.
It was a happy day.
Sunday, July 15, 2012
Summer Bucket List
Here is the Bucket List I have composed for the boys this summer. As we are already half-way through July, I kind of need to get moving on this.
1.) Visit Mulberry Fields (Zionsville).
2.) Take a day trip to Cataract Falls.
3.) Take the boys for lunch and ice cream at Zaharakos.
4.) Visit a beach at Indiana Dunes.
5.) Go to an Indians game.
6.) Go to the State Fair.
7.) Road trip to my hometown. (I had to throw this in there because we have this planned out already. It seems logical to add it to the list since it is, in fact, reasonable this summer.)
8.) Set up the outdoor "theater" for a movie and popcorn night.
So far, we have only three checked off our list. It's time to get serious. I'll try to photo document what I can. Try, I say.
1.) Visit Mulberry Fields (Zionsville).
2.) Take a day trip to Cataract Falls.
3.) Take the boys for lunch and ice cream at Zaharakos.
4.) Visit a beach at Indiana Dunes.
5.) Go to an Indians game.
6.) Go to the State Fair.
7.) Road trip to my hometown. (I had to throw this in there because we have this planned out already. It seems logical to add it to the list since it is, in fact, reasonable this summer.)
8.) Set up the outdoor "theater" for a movie and popcorn night.
So far, we have only three checked off our list. It's time to get serious. I'll try to photo document what I can. Try, I say.
Saturday, July 14, 2012
So, the phone app is helping a bit, in terms of allowing me to make short, on-the-spot posts, but I still find myself falling behind in sitting down and writing a full-on blog post. At least we are moving in the right direction, though, right? A little bit every now and again is better than nothing at all? Maybe? Yes?
News:
* My Hatchie is a sweet and loving and very tiny baby. Ok, that's not news, but he just turned nine months old and, I kid you not, barely a day passes that we don't thank God for such a good little kid. He is magic, just like his dad. At nine months he:
1.) Still has two teeth.
2.) Can move around really well. Pulling up, standing for a second or two on his own, crawling and climbing and moving, moving, moving.
3.) Loves to dance.
4.) Is a really good eater (important to note since we have failed miserably at actually sitting him down to feed him meals. Up until this week, he has been almost exclusively breast-fed. Embarassing, but true.)
5.) Is scrappy. And I mean SCRAPPY. He would eat my face off if I let him. Two teeth or twelve, that kid can bite.
He was baptized two weekends ago, and we failed any pictures. Ugh. However, everything turned out really well, my new brother-in-law nailed an incredible selection of smoked meats and we had some delicious (and theme-coordinating) cake balls, thanks to Spheres. Check them out:
And because there is always a phone handy...or a helpful aunt to snap a quick family photo, we do have at least a couple pieces of proof that our William Hatcher Phillip Walden is now part of the Catholic Church:
*Leo-Monster had his two-year check up, which I anticipated going truly horribly. If you know Leo, you know why. As loving and affectionate as he is, he is...um...he's intense. Which is exactly the warning I gave to the poor nurse administering his four shots that day. To our surprise, Leo cringed for the first one, yelled "OW!" for the second, and ate fruit snacks for the others. Not a single tear, and nobody got hurt. Giant, giant relief. And speaking of giant, Leo's estimated adult height is 6 ft, 2.8 inches. Ok, maybe not giant, per se, but when his maternal grandfather is a mere 5' 3.5", anything close to six feet is tall. OVER six feet is unheard of. Check Leo out in the Dr.'s office, playing his favorite game of "Don't Give Me Your Mean Eyes":
*And Patrick. My Patrick. The older he gets, the more he enjoys not being in the spot-light...sort of. He is very concerned with things being "special" for him (we have yet to figure out what he means, but when we hand he and Leo identical string cheeses and he asks if his is the "special one," we naturally say yes. Who wouldn't?). He wants everything to be fair and equally divided between he and Leo. If we give Leo a compliment, we must immediately give Patrick one, too, for fear that his feelings will get hurt (and he'll tell you.) Patrick is special; I tell him every day. He's such a good kid. Sigh.
* Adam and I are in a place that feels new. Familiar, but new. Finally, I feel like I'm living my life again instead of working toward something else. Adam is gone a lot, which means I'm left single-parenting more often than not, but it's not so bad. He and I are in such a good spot right now that I don't even mind having to relay things a bit. When he's coming, I'm usually going, but we manage to squeeze in at least a little quality time, and we really are happy. Enamoured with each other again, which isn't to say that we ever weren't...we were just a little pre-occupied for a while. How I lucked out with someone like Adam, I don't know. (Well, I do. God and I made a deal almost exactly seven years ago. Maybe I will tell you about it one day.) Anyway, Adam is a great life-partner. He's a good man, and we're all lucky to have him. Still, I feel a little unsettled. I can sort of put my finger on it and sort of not. I find myself stressed out, sleep-walking again, and just a little "off." (Which you may have noticed if you have any intuition.) I'm working through it, and feel at least a little lucky that I'm aware of my "off" nature. If I could just fix it, but how? I need to find my zen again. It's in here; I just need to dust it off. After all, who wants a dusty zen? And who could be unsettled when this is your life? Right?
After all:
News:
* My Hatchie is a sweet and loving and very tiny baby. Ok, that's not news, but he just turned nine months old and, I kid you not, barely a day passes that we don't thank God for such a good little kid. He is magic, just like his dad. At nine months he:
1.) Still has two teeth.
2.) Can move around really well. Pulling up, standing for a second or two on his own, crawling and climbing and moving, moving, moving.
3.) Loves to dance.
4.) Is a really good eater (important to note since we have failed miserably at actually sitting him down to feed him meals. Up until this week, he has been almost exclusively breast-fed. Embarassing, but true.)
5.) Is scrappy. And I mean SCRAPPY. He would eat my face off if I let him. Two teeth or twelve, that kid can bite.

And because there is always a phone handy...or a helpful aunt to snap a quick family photo, we do have at least a couple pieces of proof that our William Hatcher Phillip Walden is now part of the Catholic Church:
*Leo-Monster had his two-year check up, which I anticipated going truly horribly. If you know Leo, you know why. As loving and affectionate as he is, he is...um...he's intense. Which is exactly the warning I gave to the poor nurse administering his four shots that day. To our surprise, Leo cringed for the first one, yelled "OW!" for the second, and ate fruit snacks for the others. Not a single tear, and nobody got hurt. Giant, giant relief. And speaking of giant, Leo's estimated adult height is 6 ft, 2.8 inches. Ok, maybe not giant, per se, but when his maternal grandfather is a mere 5' 3.5", anything close to six feet is tall. OVER six feet is unheard of. Check Leo out in the Dr.'s office, playing his favorite game of "Don't Give Me Your Mean Eyes":
![]() |
You're just playing with your mean eyes, right? |
![]() |
Look me in the eye. I am so cute. I need to see that you are just playing with me. |
![]() |
See? I'm goofy AND cute. And I am starting to get nervous. |
![]() |
Ha-ha! Goofy face. You cannot resist my goofy face. I will make you stop the mean eyes. |
![]() |
Fine. Keep your mean eyes. But I will give you my mean eyes, too. |
![]() |
Haha! Tricked you again! I am goofy and so funny and you cannot keep from laughing at my funny face. Try it. |
![]() |
But this game is old and I just want to sit here. |
After all:
Friday, July 13, 2012
See what happens when I get the Blogger app? More frequent posts, although not at all lengthy. Things I might normally post on Facebook and then immediately regret (because, as you know, I have mixed emotions about sharing personal information), I post on here instead. Still public, yes, just not as accessible. As I am heading off to watch a late-night movie in bed with Adam, I have only this to say: Adam Walden is the most selfless, supportive, and overall excellent man I have ever met. If the whole world were to try and beat me down, it would be alright as long as I he still crawled in bed next to me at night. This, my friends, is the truth.
Tuesday, July 3, 2012
Monday, July 2, 2012
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Dad
October, 2019 Nearly seven weeks ago, my dad died. Writing that seems as surreal as the actual experience. And yet, here I sit, fatherless...
-
Today, the baby is two. Specifically, in about 8 hours and 50 (ish) minutes, the baby turns two. That means we have had two whole years of...
-
Yesterday, the kids wanted nothing but to lay with me. To cook with me. To talk to me. To be my "special helper." To sit next t...