Who knew?

I felt like such a grown up this weekend. It's probably strange to be saying that since, you know, I'm 40 and all, but the majority of the time I still don't feel like I have this adult thing figured out too well. I mean, I have all of the attributes, right? Married? Check. Kids? Check. Advanced Degree? Check. Job? Check.

There are just some things that I haven't been able to turn the corner on, and having had two smallish kids for at least the last six years, there's always been a reason not to get it together. Too tired to consistently get the dishes done. Too busy with the kids to actually have a house that I'd let someone in. Too much kid STUFF to even think about attacking the mound.

This weekend wasn't earth shattering in that I made a ton of progress, not really if I were honest about it. But, I did manage to get all the laundry in the washer and subsequently into the dryer (where the last load is currently resting). I clean off the dining room table down to the point where we can actually eat at it and not have to look over a mound of paper/bills/magazines/homework to see each other. I'm one load of dishes/handwash away from having nothing in the sink. Did a small grocery run to fill in the gaps for the rest of week with lunches. Got almost all of my FSA submissions gathered and submitted. Maybe this speaks to the horrible depths to which we have descended, but I view it more as a sign that I'm actually catching up and not completely under water. Yep, that's what I'm going to do.

Yes, I know that it's only Monday, but I'd rather bounce along today than mope about what hasn't happened. YAY me!!

The Dental Gods shine upon us

For the first time, in what seems like ever, Son had a good, no, make that fantastic, dental checkup. No broken molars, no abscesses, no trips to the U of MN at 10 PM due to a high fever. Just no cavities, three wiggly, soon to be departed baby teeth (to join the one front tooth that lost last week), and an appointment to seal his six year molars. Bliss, I tell you.

We go back in for LMT next week. I know that I will be brought down to earth with a bit more than a simple thud. We know that she has a cavity, one that the previous dentist didn't think too much of. The same guy that screwed up my mouth and was such a tentative guy that I wanted to slug him. Fortunately, he was too (insert adverb) to continue to work on Son and LMT after Son's howling first appointment (you know, the one where Son was sent home from school with pain in his tooth, and Husband let them work on him WITHOUT any Novocaine because they thought that would hurt Son more and just managed to traumatize him) and gave us a referral to a specialized kids dentist, whom I sincerely love. Howling kid? No problem. Little freaked out by the sucky thing? Let's turn it into a game. After wimpy dentist gave us the referral, the hygienist took me aside and told me that of the two, there was really only one place to go. I'm grateful for her input, because I really like this practice.

Me, on the other hand, I need to find someone very soon. I'm the worst example to my kids; I was never afraid as a kid, but it seems that my pain tolerance has actually decreased as I've gotten older. Maybe it's the whole unexpected nature of the pain when you're getting you mouth worked on. For example, contractions, other medical procedures are actually pretty predictable. The contraction will do this for so long. It will be over. The needle for the blood draw is coming now. It will hurt here, but no surprises. When someone is poking around in your mouth, and you're stuck in a completely uncomfortable position, blinding light in your eyes, and they have an oops slip-it catches you off guard, and there is no guarantee that it won't happen again. Oh, and the last "fix" I had made my pain worse, and has stayed that way for over a year.

Yes, I'm whiny.

Well, for today I'll be happy with Son's clean bill of health and ignore the certainty of orthodontic bills that the dentist referenced as we were talking about the departure of the remainder of his baby teeth. Please let FSAs be around when we get there.....

Let's see if we can make this work

Again, another year has passed without me coming back here. I'm back at that place where I feel like I need it. Facebook just isn't the same-seems too hollow for some reason. Don't get me wrong, I've actually reconnected with some people that I have missed-and honestly can call them friends. Who knew?

However, I really needed to get back here again. I didn't mean to say goodbye (not that anyone is listening anymore), just had to re-focus. Hitting 40 is really beginning to sink in, the life change that it really is. I thought that after having two kids, even as an "infertile," I would really leave that in my rear view mirror, and never have to go back to that place. I find now that I can see the end of my reproductive days in the not-so-far distance, I'm having to confront all of that all over again. I had wanted a third child, and my husband shot it down with nary a look back. Which makes me feel all the more alone and even a bit crazy.

Maybe this just ends up being an online journal that is mine only-and that's probably OK. I need a place to talk this, as well as other, things out. I don't have many sounding boards, so at least I can get these things out, and maybe get rid of this completely unnerving, unsettled feeling. Its been chasing me for a while now, and I really would like it to break off pursuit.

Well hello Mr. Fancypants!

I'm sure that this place is a wasteland now-I can't believe that it's almost been a year since I last posted. I goof around over at Facebook, but I've come to the realization that I miss actually POSTING something of substance as opposed to random status updates. I AM a lawyer after all-all concise output be damned! In looking at my last couple of posts, I suppose I could give some sort of short update...

• Son did not go to kindergarten next year. Husband didn't dig in as deep as I thought, and in the end I think that he saw that this wasn't going to be a negative for Son. Also, he may have figured out that I was serious. I got some validation from his preschool teacher that both she and the other teachers that interact with him think that it was the right decision. He's reading pretty well right now, and is doing some double digit adding and subtraction. They are also mixing in some of the really basic concepts of multiplication.


• We have also recently decided to keep him in the Montessori environment and found a school that goes from essentially pre-school (age 3) through 8th grade. Son hung out in one of the classrooms while we got the tour, and when we left he asked when he could go back. The staff is all Montessori certified, and very stable. They have several teachers that have been there over 10 years, some approaching twenty, and the lowest one on the totem pole has been there for five. Stability stability. It's also five minutes from my work and will cut off almost 40 minutes off of our round trip commute each day. We will have to be in the heart of rush hour on some of the busier highways, but we can use the express lane due to the more than one occupant (hooray, and I don't have to pay for a MNPass either!). All in all, it seems like a really good decision for us all the way around. Now let's just hope that they both can get in.

Other than that, things really haven't changed a ton. Still at my job, which remains a challenge. In some strangely masochistic way, I really do enjoy it. We're still understaffed, but I did get some nice recognition for what I have been doing via a promotion and nice raise (even more boggling in light of how the economy hit our industry). It really does make a huge difference.

I've started doing a group weightlifting class with one of my secretaries that I really have been enjoying. It's through our fitness center at work, and I don't have to pay a dime! I'm down almost 10 lbs from my worst point last summer, and while I have a LOOOONNNNNGGGGG way to go, at least I know that I can leg press almost 50 lbs more than the boys in the class! I'm also working on trying to run a 5K at the end of June. I need to focus more on the cardio work (which is also required to be done on our own as part of the group class) to get there, but I'm up to around two miles per session, so with almost 12 weeks to go, I should be able to at least survive and make a decent showing. I just want to finish and say that I ran most of it. I've finally come to the conclusion that beating myself up doesn't work, that one brownie is not cause to throw everything out the window and head to McDonald's, and that doing this with someone that I am accountable to is a good thing.

That's probably all that is fit to print at this point. I've missed this place....

Reason No. 2.395.1 why I will be completely gray in the couple of years.

LMT has decided that the diving board at swimming lessons is the greatest thing in the world. Granted, she calls it a "teeter totter," but she certainly isn't afraid of it. The teacher that we have this session really isn't very good-she doesn't move around the kids very well, and there isn't any real direction. However, since we were 0nly about half the class, she asked if anyone wanted to try to go off of the diving board. The BIG diving board. The one that is in 11 feet of water diving board.

I'm not overly afraid of depths, and fairly confident in my swimming. I still felt a little leery about the whole thing, but since LMT vigorously agreed to go on this little adventure, so I wanted to encourage her. I dutifully went along.

The teacher walked her out onto the end of the board, and then dropped her to me. No mean feat to catch a 30ish pound child while treading water. Even worse when the catcher gets water up her nose. I thought that this was a one time deal-I mean, what child would want to be dangled over water like that?

Mine. Repeatedly.

She did it the first time, and I caught her (she did have a noodle tied around her quite securely, and I had one as well), and swam her over to the side back to the teacher. LMT then demanded that we do it again. The teacher asked me if I was up to it, and I went along with it. She did it again, but this time with even more of a drop. Again, nothing but squeals from LMT, and more water up my nose.

Fortunately for me, the class was over, or otherwise LMT would have been up for a third time. She was so excited and proud of herself. I was proud of her too. Her brother is anything but a risk-taker. It can be hard not to compare them; really hard. But for that moment, just for once, it was all about LMT.

I worry about her dare devil tendencies-the absolute lack of fear. I worry about how she will have to get really hurt before she figures out her limits. I'm thinking about gymnastics to try to channel some of that fearlessness, and at least give her the tools to be safe about it. I'm proud of her, but still have this irrational fear of losing her. I don't want to cloud these types of moments with that fear.

Regardless, it was one of those days that made me so happy that she was mine, that I was able to be there for her, to see her in her glory.

I hope that I can remember that look of sheer joy on her face. The blond curls dripping, the hot pink swimshirt, her pink noodle wrapped around her, and her telling Mama all about it. Please, don't let me forget.

LMTisms

LMT is an interesting little thing. Stubborn, sweet, smarter than she should be, a demon, a good sister, you get it. Some of her recent gems:

• an umbrella is now called "a rainbow"
• when she's using the potty, she'll look up and tell me that "all the pee is gone!"
• she can sing a mean version of zip-pid-dee-do-dah
  
• she has a rather eclectic fashion sense; florals go quite well with stripes in a totally different tonal and color family. I fear I may be raising a "fancy Nancy" of my own!

There are moments when she just glows. My new niece was baptized a couple of weeks ago, and I was the godmother. We were at the service, and LMT was in a bright yellow sweater with daisy buttons, her hair was in all of it's blond curly glory, and she was sitting on my dad's lap. She was happy, and just being so good (not a peep most of the time). She was such a beautiful little thing, and with that munchkinesque voice of hers, she wins me over every time.

She can be a temperamental little thing; hell hath no fury like a two year old who has heard the word "no." The dramatics are Oscar worthy. At least for me though, hearing the "I love you Mommy" while holding my face in her hands are worth it all. I plan on enjoying it as long as I can.

Breathe.Repeat.

Wow, it has been nothing but non-stop moving since oh, jeez, last Tuesday?

Breathe. Repeat.

For once, I got most of all of the fun weekend type stuff (laundry, find the bottom of the kitchen sink, etc.) done. Now, let's be clear-I still have two baskets of laundry that need to be folded and deposited where they need to be. But! But! I am proud to note that there is nothing sitting in the dryer. I even managed to wash a couple of small cat beds, and the dogs' blankets (such as they are-stained towels from Husband's hotel, but they seem to like them) and get them back to the kennels.

I still feel like I've been run over by a truck. I had a bunch of things to do for work that didn't get done, and ran out of mulch for my tree ring hosta beds. But for the first time in a while, I didn't feel like a complete and utter failure, which is a plus.

I knew that this week would be a bear, and it has been, a whole day in. Back to back meetings, various fire drills, pulling me out of meetings, running from one end of the building to another (twice), being short an admin....you get the idea.

However, BabyA, who I can't remember if I have renamed her here as LMT (little miss thing), has seemed to turn the corner on the whole potty training thing. Now, granted, just by virtue of me typing this I will get home tonight to find multiple bags of "mistakes," but she had a fantastic weekend as far as that went. We moved her to a big girl bed (making her crib a daybed) and she has done amazingly well. She hates to get her Tinkerbell or Fancy Nancy undies yukky, so her stubbornness may actually work in our favor for a change. She's also taking to water in an almost fish like manner at her swimming lessons. As opposed to the ordeal that we went through with Son, she looks forward to each Saturday, and can't wait to get into the pool. Son treated it as an eight week long punishment and did his best cat impersonation each time that he got into the pool.

Speaking of the pool, I'm actually in the water with LMT. I've managed to suspend my usual strong aversion to appearing in public in anything resembling to a swimsuit, but in this case, having LMT as a very cute accessory seems to work. Yes, there is one mom who shows up in a bikini, and another that looks like she has probably run for, and may someday win, Mrs. Minnesota (but also seems to be a genuinely nice person), but it has been remarkably free of angst despite it all.

Work keeps ramping up with little to no breaks. I'm short an attorney right now, and have to start yet another round of recruiting (blech). I'm loving all the stuff that is coming across my desk and through my door, but hate the fact that I can't seem to, or ever possibly, get it all done. I like the fact that I seem to have won over at least parts of the engineering community, and that I'm getting involved on a higher business level, and that they seem to care about IP at this point. I'm worried that if I don't find a way to get it all done, I will lose all of that momentum and good will, and it will end up blowing up on me.

The part that I'm having trouble finding the balance is that I really need to see my kids. It's not necessarily coming from the place where I know that my kids need me, but more that I need them. They center me, and seem to give me fuel to keep going. One of my favorite things at night is sitting on the love seat in LMT's room and talking to her about her day, or talking about the story that we had just read. Or, if I get the chance, to sit in bed with Son and talk about his day. If I were a good little employee, I would then log in and work for another of couple of hours. I'm afraid if I keep up this type of pace, I will fall apart rather quickly. When I have done this before, I turn into that shrieking, crazy mother that sends children into therapy as adults. I hate that-it does nothing but make us all miserable. Husband is not the most positive person when it comes to handling the kids, and I don't want to pile on top of that. Son is so sensitive, and keeps so much of it inside, that I worry that I will end up with a four year old with an ulcer. Not because I was that kind of kid. Really.

I've rambled all over the place, and probably should have closed several paragraphs before now. Time to pay attention to my call...you know, what I get paid for.