Dairy Free

Friends and family who remember the time I was a (kind of) vegetarian for 4ish years and the time I stopped eating at Burger King because they cut down the rainforest (actually I still don't eat at Burger King, but I don't really eat any fast food anymore) know that I am predisposed to taking on eating habits that are inconvenient to those that like to dine with me.

You know you love me anyway. <3 p="">
After attending a talk at work about plant-based eating, I've been experimenting for the past few months with changing my diet. I am in no way doing this to lose weight. I am happy with my weight and could even stand to gain a few pounds (healthy pounds). But being healthy is different from being skinny and I would like to improve my overall health by eating better.

In eating more plant foods and fewer animal foods I have learned that I actually feel better if I don't eat red meat or dairy. I am not saying dairy is an "unhealthy" food. But for me it is, apparently, not great. I think this will probably the biggest inconvenience to people who dine with me, but it is hard to argue with my wanting to eat foods that help me feel my best, right?

Butter seems to actually be harder to avoid than cheese because it is added liberally to cooked veggies and is baked into many things. But buttery foods definitely make me feel gross compared to their non-buttery counterparts. So it is worth it, to me, to go to the trouble of not eating it. (And thank goodness for vegan chocolate. That I would have a hard time living without!)

What I do eat are meals that are based around fruits and vegetables (instead of meats and starches). Usually at least one meal a day is completely vegan. I eat mostly whole food (looks like it did when it came off the plant). Some fish. Some eggs (served as eggs - not as much in baked goods). A little poultry. I have started drinking coconut milk and I cook something with tofu maybe once a week.

I have been motivated to make longterm changes in my eating because I have seen immediate positive results. (And when I slip up the negative effects hit me pretty hard.) I almost never feel over-full - that gross, bloated feeling. I have more energy for longer periods of time. I don't crash when I get hungry - I just feel hungry. I've also started to really enjoy healthier foods. I don't feel deprived at all!

It is an ongoing process, but I do appreciate the patience of my friends and family with my eating eccentricities. ;)

No-Shave November Results

I didn't shave at all in during the month of November.

I did take faster showers. My skin is mostly better, but I still have a few ingrown hairs working themselves out.

I have been able to completely hide my legs in public, so I haven't really had to worry about what people think, but I did go to a spa mid-November and had a little anxiety about that.

I was at a conference and had a night on my own, and since I rarely have time to myself I treated myself to a massage. I worried that since people usually go to spas to get beautified the masseuse might ask if she could take care of that little hair problem for me. Or just be kind of disgusted at having to touch my legs (although, I reasoned, men get massages, too, and they have hairy legs).

When she got to my legs and didn't say anything at all I still found myself worrying about what she thought. Then I thought to myself, "Seriously?" I was the one with the problem, not her. I was the one who was bothered by my legs. Not her. And I wasn't going to let it ruin my massage. So I got over it.

I would like to say that I like my legs hairy. But I still don't. I feel a little better about them, but probably not enough to sport it proudly. So although No-Shave November has definitely spilled over into No-Shave December, it is a good bet that the next time my legs are bared they'll also be hairless.

I may experiment with waxing. What could go wrong?

No-Shave November

I really want to be one of those people who doesn't shave. I want the freedom of leaving my body alone - to just look the way it looks. I want the confidence to own it. Yeah, I have hairy legs, wanna make something of it?

But it is hard. I have pale skin on my legs- mostly from lack of sun exposure. I have dark hair. When I let it grow, it is not subtle. And I really don't like the way it looks. I feel like I am seeing boy legs, like the aren't even mine! And this is usually the reason I go back to shaving. Not, I tell myself, because society is judging me, but because it is what I prefer.

But do I really? I mean shaving is supposed to make my legs look better, right? But it dries out my skin, causes irritation, and leaves me with nicks and ingrown hairs. I will guarantee you, there has never been a time since puberty when I have had legs that were both hairless and blemishless.

I am eternally grateful that I never got into keeping my pubic hair shorn for aesthetic reasons. I was too clueless to know that people do that when it first started growing in. And to the credit of anyone who has had the privilege of seeing it, I've never had any complaints.

Yeah, I shave the bikini region (ouch!) during bathing suit season and might do some trimming to keep renegade hairs from sneaking around the edge of the bathing suit and cut down on summer heat. And I've shaved it all off a time or two for practical reasons - like knowing I wouldn't be able to do any womanscaping for a while. I can trim every few weeks during the summer or shave it once and get by for a month or more. This is handy when going on vacation. And also when I was pregnant and the belly started to obscure my view of my lady parts.

Right now though, cool weather and no bathing suits. I'm all natural and see no reason not to be.

So back to the legs. (I haven't mentioned the arm pits because, even though I do shave them as often as I shave my legs, during past experiments with not shaving, I haven't been as bothered by arm pit hair - don't know why.) What better time to launch yet another hiatus from shaving than no-shave November! It's not just for beards anymore!

The cold weather should help me get by longer without making it totally obvious. And maybe once it is all really and truly grown in, no more chopped off stubble, I'll like the way it looks. (I keep hoping this. It hasn't worked before, but I kind of think my hair has never made it to full length.)

The last time I tried to stop shaving, I kept thinking of other people I've known who didn't shave, and still wore skirts, and it was totally obvious they didn't shave. I mostly remember them with kind of a hippy look. And I can rock the hippy look. But sometimes I want the elegant look. And I feel like hairy legs with a fancy dress will look incongruous. Am I just not hippy enough?

I guess we'll find out.

Magic Eye

In the daily Krishnamurti meditations I have been reading, he talks about how understanding comes in a flash. You just see The Truth all at once - it isn't something you work towards over time. (He doesn't say it quite like this. I'm paraphrasing.)

I kind of understand what he is saying. I don't know if I have ever seen The Truth, but when I see the true version of things it is in a flash. Like when I'm looking up at the night sky and I see distant suns circled by their own worlds instead of just stars. Or when I look at myself in the mirror and see an ant in an anthill or bird in a nest (an animal in its natural habitat). These examples don't seem that great, but when I describe it or think about it later, it isn't quite the same as when I am really in the moment of understanding these truths.

It seems like Krishnamurti says that once you see The Truth you keep on seeing it. But when I see these little truths they quickly get away from me. It reminds me of the old Magic Eye pictures. They just looked like a bunch of dots, but if you looked at them the right way, there was a three-dimensional image hidden inside. There was a special trick to seeing them, but I taught myself to cross my eyes a certain way and just see the 3D picture without doing the trick. When I did it that way, the image usually went into the page instead of popping out, but I could tell what it was supposed to be.

But the point is, you can't see the Magic Eye picture all the time. Most of the time it is just dots. That's what seeing little truths is like for me. One minute I really understand some part of the universe in a profound and real way, but the next minute I'm back to brushing my teeth or driving or making dinner. The image pops out of focus again.

Maybe with The Truth it is different and it sticks with you. Or maybe we can't all be Krishnamurti. ;)

My Sister Makes me Laugh

Recently, during my mom's not-a-big-deal birthday party, I caught a fly in mid-air.

The party was at my house and we have had a small fly problem that was mostly resolved with non-toxic (to humans and pets) fly spray. There was just the one lone fly still hanging around, and maybe he had been hit with the spray earlier in the day because he seemed to not be moving so very fast.

Either that, or time slowed down. It was this perfect moment. I saw the fly about shoulder-level. Somehow I knew that I could just reach out an catch him. And I did.

But then...
I had a live fly in my hand, which commenced to buzzing its wings and scrambling its little fly feet against my palm.

I started yelling something like, "It's in my hand! The fly is in my hand!" My sister, nearby, hadn't actually seen what had happened and didn't know what I was going on about. She started laughing at me!

I ran over to the sink, turned on the water, and opened my hand under the running water, thinking the fly might be washed down the drain. It wasn't. It escaped.

My sister continued laughing at me until she was almost crying. Because when you are sisters there are lots of "you had to be there" moments that are really funny to you and maybe not anyone else.

Like this time when I was home from college and my sister and I went out shopping together. We finished at the store and walked back to her car. I had the hiccups.

There is a hiccup remedy I use that works for me every time. I drink water while holding my breath and closing my nose and ears. If this sounds tricky, it is. In my "old age" I have gotten cleaver enough to get a mouthful of water first, and then occupy my hands with closing orifices.

But what I used to do was use my thumbs to push my ear flaps in, my index fingers to each pinch one nostril closed, and then my pinkies to pick up a glass and bring it to my lips. This would involve moving my whole upper body towards the glass, since my pinkies were in close proximity to other fingers performing other duties around my face. Then I would have to bend over again to put the glass down while still holding my ears and nose closed, because it takes a few moments for the remedy to work.

So my sister and I got into the car and I remembered I had half a can of coke. I took the coke can, put it between my legs, plugged my nose and ears, and leaned down to get the can between my pinkies. I successfully sipped out of the can and I now had a mouthful of coke I was preparing to swallow. (Swallowing is more difficult with your nose and ears plugged, which may have something to do with why this hiccup remedy works.)

I suddenly realized that I couldn't put the coke can down, either between my legs, or in the cup holder. I just didn't have the dexterity to maneuver it with my pinkies, and with my whole head moving along with the can. I looked out of the corner of my eye at my sister, who had a "WTF" look on her face and tried to telepathically tell her I needed help.

She must have understood because she slowly reached over and took the can from between my pinkies. After she set it down she started laughing at me. I swallowed quickly and started laughing, too. With tears running down our faces, we drove home.

Don't understand what is soooooooo funny? You had to be there.

A picture of me and Amanda when I was in grad school at Alabama and she came to visit me.

Babezuki

I'm home with a sick (well, sick enough that he can't go to day care) Horatio, so let's talk about the newest ridiculous nickname I have for him.

When Virginia was itty bitty and she liked to knock things down I sometimes called her "Babezilla," as seen in this video:






Horatio loves knocking things down even more than Virginia did, but he isn't exactly a Babezilla.

This summer Virginia became obsessed with the Brobdingnagian Bards, specifically "The Leprechaun" song. We listened to most of the album on the way to swim lessons in the mornings, so I got to know all the songs really well. They have a live version of "If I Had a Million Ducats" in which someone shouts out "Godzilla" and when they use it in the song they add, "...and Godzuki."

John explained about Godzuki being this cute miniature version of Godzilla. And since Virginia is still Babezilla sometimes, Babezuki is the perfect identity for Horatio.

Mayhayley

I am reading a book about Mayhayley Lancaster for a storytelling project and decided I should do some more research on her. I own another book called Weird Georgia, which seemed like a good place to start.

I turned to the index (like a good librarian). First I looked under "M" for "Mayhayley" because she seems to often be referred to by that name alone. I didn't find her there, so I looked under "L" for "Lancaster" and discovered that there are several pages on her.

I put my finger in the book to start looking for the section I needed. When I pulled the book open I was looking right at a picture of Mayhayley. I had opened the book to the correct section.

Mayhayley was supposed to be a seer. She called herself "The Oracle of the Ages." Opening the book to the right page is almost an eery Mayhayley-like occurrence.

Another strange connection, Mayhayley's first name is Amanda.

I'm thinking of portraying Mayhayley. Since she wore everything from potato sacks to fancy dresses, the costume shouldn't be too hard. I can't do a glass eye, but she wore an eye patch sometimes, which could be a neat touch. Now I just need to work on my South Georgia accent.

Oh, and getting together all the Mayhayley stories I want to use. Small detail.

Cousin Hayden

Thanksgiving of 2011 John, Virginia, and I (Horatio was in utero) went to Jacksonville and stayed with John's grandmother. Other family members made the trip as well and John has even more family also in Jacksonville.

There Virginia met Hayden, John's cousin. He is a few years older than Virginia but he really enjoyed playing with her. He would read to her or build things for her to knock down. The age difference didn't bother him.

One of the last days we were there we got back from a walk on the beach and Hayden had come over to play again.

On this trip I had begun to feel tired and a little overwhelmed. Even though the adult-to-child ratio was much greater in the house than it usually was when we were at home, somehow watching Virginia seemed harder. There were things she shouldn't touch. Someone always had to be near her, whereas at home I was comfortable with her walking between rooms on her own. And, as on any vacation, there was a lot of waiting around time. You know, maybe I don't want Virginia to take out a million toys just now because we might all be leaving for lunch soon. But when you are waiting for several people to get ready, you don't know how long the wait will really be. And kids don't like to do nothing.

So I was tired and it was hard and after we got back from the beach I told Virginia to get in the shower with me because we were both covered in sand. When we got out it was almost time for Hayden to go. He and Virginia both seemed disappointed that they wouldn't really get to play again. I was a little sorry, but mostly thought that doing what was best for me in that moment was still ultimately the best thing to do.

Last year Hayden's mother died. We were back in Jacksonville in spring of 2013 and he and Virginia got to play together again, but it wasn't the same. A light had gone out of him - understandably so. I began to feel worse about not letting them play together that day. I had had an opportunity to bring more joy to his life and I had been selfish instead.

Earlier this week Hayden stopped breathing due to an asthma attack. He also had a cold. The doctors do not know how long he went without breathing. He is in a coma and things are not looking positive right now. I really wish he and Virginia could play one more time.

We love you, Hayden.

***UPDATE***

Probably around the same time I was writing this Hayden was being declared legally dead. I don't know when exactly he died or when life support was ended. His family has donated his organs.

Old-Timey

In a third-grade class today I mentioned gameboys. One of my students came up to me afterwards and said, "Just one question, what is a gameboy?"
"Oh!" I said, genuinely surprised that gaming technology from my adolescence is now unheard of. "You know, like a hand-held video game."
Another student added, "Like a DS."
"Yes," I said, "Like a Nintendo DS."
She said, "Okay, good. This book I'm reading also talks about gameboys. It is kind of an old-timey book. I'm glad I know what they are now."

Second Summer Adventure

After only about a week and a half back at home, we set out on a second road trip on the last day of July.

We were headed to the National Storytelling Conference, which was held in Richmond, Virginia this year. Having so much to do during our days at home, we did not dedicate an entire day to the drive. Instead of waking up early and getting it over with, as we had for most of the drives on our last trip, we planned to leave after John's work was done for the day and arrive late.

A little north of Charlotte, North Carolina the digital readout on the dashboard alerted me to the fact that one of our tires was losing air. I got off the interstate, found a gas station, and called OnStar. They sent road-side assistance to put on our spare, but they couldn't fix the flat tire. By that time at night, we couldn't find any place in a 40 mile radius that would fix the tire. So, we were forced to change plans and stay in a nearby hotel. In the morning John got the tire fixed and we drove on to Richmond.

As for the conference, I found all the workshops informative and storytelling enjoyable. I met lots of great people, who were quite friendly and easy to talk to.

I gave my long-awaited fringe performance. Feels good to have it completed and completed well!

Now we are all back home, getting into new routines with work and school (daycare). I'm back in the real world. But I hope some of the storytelling magic of the summer will carry over!

Vacation in the North

Before I can tell you about the storytelling conference I'd better write a post about our July vacation!

On our drive up to Buffalo in early July our first stop was a McDonald's with a play place for breakfast. Virginia got a rash all over her arms and legs after playing here that she had for the rest of the trip. Boo!

We spent the night in Cleveland to break up the drive a little bit. Horatio found a ball.

We were in Buffalo for my cousin Ben's wedding. Horatio dressed as a young Doctor Who. 

And my children love dancing. Especially with Aunt 'Manda! We stayed at the reception until Horatio fell asleep in my arms. 

We went to the butterfly conservatory on the Canadian side of Niagara Falls. Uncle Tony attracted a butterfly!

My boys on the Niagara shuttle.

And, of course, the Falls themselves!

That is a baby toddler on my back trying not to get too wet. 

After Buffalo, we went to London, Ontario to visit my friend Amy and her family. Horatio had a "ball" at the indoor playground. There was a heat advisory in effect, which meant we had to be careful about spending time outside. It was 86 degrees. ;)

From there we drove to Philadelphia to spend time with the Foremans! It really was hot in Philly, so we spent outside time getting wet. 

All the cousins!

Painting. (Aunt Mary knows how to entertain children!)

Funny story from Philadelphia: Virginia and Horatio shared a room. Virginia was on the bed, and Horatio was on a trundle bed on the ground. One night, Virginia fell out of bed onto him! He had a hard time sleeping after we came home and I had to wonder if it was because his worst nightmares had been confirmed. There was a monster in the night trying to get him!

Not so Smart Phone

After going back through The Shallows by Nicholas Carr I have decided to dumb down my smart phone by removing most of the social networking apps - most significantly: Facebook.

I am mostly alright with my cyborg identity. When you use a tool (whether it is a hammer or the Internet) your brain starts to view it as an extension of your body. So, my computer, and the Internet, are part of me. But I do have concerns about losing my capacity for quiet contemplation. I'm a storyteller - that's how I come up with stories!

I am trying to meditate more, read more, spend more time outside - all things that exercise the quiet parts of my mind. But I ultimately decided I did not have the willpower to keep Facebook on my phone. When it is there, I check it. I think to myself, "I'll just see if I have any notifications...I'll just read the most recent post...I'll just read one more post..." and so on. I've known this is a minor addiction for a while and have had some success with less obsessive checking by not keeping my phone on me, but I frequently backslide. Carr reminded me that I need to take more effective action and short if getting rid of the smart phone entirely, this seemed like the way to go.

I kept Instagram because I don't use it much and it is handy to be able to share photos immediately. And I kept HootSuite so I can still update Twitter and Facebook from my phone. I know there is also a way to check both streams through HootSuite, but I'm not in the habit of using it, so it poses less temptation.

There are times I miss having a ready distraction on my phone, but I'm purposefully filling those times with reading (print books!) or sitting quietly. I try to embrace the stillness of these moments instead of feeling bored.

After all, I don't need to look for distractions, I have kids!

Almost 30

I've noticed a trend among bloggers who happen to be around my age of coming up with a "30 before 30" list. 30 things they want to accomplish before turning 30.

Since getting into the Zen Habits blog I've been avoiding goals, so that's out for me. I could come up with 30 habits I want to form in the next year (with the help of 52 Changes). And, maybe I will work on forming more healthy habits, but resolving to do so is also kind of like making it a goal...

One thing I have realized recently, though, is that there is one overarching habit I can work on that really uplifts all areas of my life: being happy in the moment.

The problem with goals (for me and for many people) is that I can feel bogged down about getting started, depressed about not having done enough to reach the goal, and tantalized by the promise of the goal not yet achieved.

But every moment is an opportunity for practicing the habit of being happy in the moment. It isn't hard to get started. It is one little thing I can always do right now. If I feel like I haven't been doing it enough - no need to feel depressed, just work on it right now. And there isn't some future reward I'm not yet enjoying. I can always enjoy being happy right now.

As someone said to me the day before my birthday, "You're actually turning 29? Like for the first time?"

People want to be this age over and over again. I should enjoy it while it lasts and then embrace 30 with a positive attitude!

Family picture taken by my sister-in-law during our recent trip to Philadelphia. What's not to love?

Do What You Love

When I first joined Southern Order of Storytellers I was in college and I didn't really get involved. After all, I was taking classes. I was busy. Even though I really wanted to make storytelling a bigger part of my life, I thought I'd have to wait because I just had "too much" going on.

I started attending cluster groups after Virginia was born and I really needed to be around other grownups. Then I got a job and I got nominated for the board...

Suddenly I have two kids and work full time but still serve on the board and attend multiple storytelling events around Atlanta each month. I give a few paid performances a year. And now I'm performing an hour long show as part of the National Storytelling Network Conference Fringe.

My name was drawn. Being in the Fringe is not merit-based. But it is still a great opportunity to prove my merit.

Last night I did a dress rehearsal of my show for the Fringe (entitled "Naughty Bits") at Famous Pub preceding Stories on the Square. I was overwhelmed by the response. John passed a hat and we did raise funds for advertising my show at the conference. I appreciate every person who donated. But what was even more touching to me was just the number of people who showed up. The room was packed with over 40 audience members - most of whom I had never met before. I have to admit I was a little terrified. They know what this show is about, right?

From one of these new friends I got the biggest storytelling compliment I have ever been given. (This was before the show, but he didn't take it back afterwards, so I'm assuming it still stands.) He said, "I travel to see Donald Davis, and Bill Harley, and Kevin Kling. And now I will travel to see Sarah Beth Nelson." I was speechless.

Thank you, Atlanta, for giving me so many opportunities to do what I love. I still have "too much" going on. (If I'm honest, more so than ever.) But every second I spend storytelling is so very worth it.

I'm doing one more Atlanta performance before "the real thing" at Manuel's on July 8 at 7pm. This show will be ticketed, again, to raise funds for advertising at the conference. Fringe performers have to generate their own audience.

My Fringe performance is on August 2 in Richmond, Virginia. I can't wait to take this show on the road!

Me, telling one Naughty Bit at the inaugural Story Jam in Dahlonega.  

Pointing Down

Aunt 'Manda had the privilege of helping Virginia get dressed after we all went swimming recently. She noticed Virginia pushing at her private parts and instead of saying, "Hey, could you not do that in front of me." She asked, "What are you doing?" (Are we related or what?)
Virginia answered, "I'm trying to make it point down."
Virginia has seen me change Horatio's diaper a number of times and asks me about every detail of what I am doing. I have told her that I make sure his penis is pointing down before I close up the diaper, because otherwise he might pee out of the leg opening.
So, Virginia was trying to make her equipment point down as well. And Aunt 'Manda got to try to explain to her that hers already points down and can't really point anywhere else.
Aunt 'Manda will be an old pro by the time she has her own kids. Mine are making sure to expose her to the good, the bad, and the awkward of parenting!

Selfie taken by Virginia

What's kind of funny is that I've been ramping my practice of the "Naughty Bits" show (National Storytelling Network Fringe performance evening of August 2, preview performances on 6/11 and 7/8) and thinking about how comfortable kids are talking about bodies. I want my kids to stay that way. 

Cat Shaming

Inspired by this I decided to take my own cat-shaming photos.

Socrates:

Looks so innocent, doesn't he?

Penelope:

This is the cat door to the garage, where the litter boxes are located:

It must be taped open at all times or she actually won't go through it. 

Well, now that I've publicly shamed them I'm sure they'll both shape up. 

Nicknames

I have noticed that when I spend lots of time with my kids (like over school holidays) I tend to come up with new nicknames for them. But then, when I'm working again, whatever nickname I'm on seems to stick. Virginia was "Babe-a-licious" for a while, but now she is mostly just Virginia. 

Unfortunately for Horatio, the nickname he got stuck with is "Buns." Why would I call my child "Buns?" Well, Virginia is a sweetie and Horatio is a honey. Honey-buns. Buns. 

I don't even think about how strange it might sound except when Virginia says, "Horatio is your Buns!"

He does have another nickname that is gaining ground, but probably won't stick since it is a veiled insult. (Hey, sometimes children are tiny maniacs and having a loving way to call them a name might just keep you sane.) He is a Pita Pocket. And "Pita" stands for "Pain in the... you know what." 

That would be, like, when he doesn't sleep. Or when he thrashes about violently while I'm trying to change his diaper. 

It's a good thing he's cute as a baby's bottom. 

Ichor

I have a red dot on my chest, which the Internet tells me is some kind of harmless angioma. It doesn't bother me and has been there for as long as I can remember. But I do recall, as a child, having a doctor warn me that if I scratched it or accidentally cut it, it would bleed a lot. (The Internet supports this claim.) I took this warning very seriously and wondered about such a small spot bleeding "a lot." I wondered if I would be like Talos from "Jason and the Argonauts" with all of my ichor draining out through my one point of vulnerability.




It is probably good that I took the warning seriously because I am a picker. I pick scabs, zits, the dead skin around my nails. Not picking at something is an exercise in self control for me. But I didn't pick at the spot on my chest and eventually I mostly forgot about it.

Recently, though, it has returned to the forefront of my mind. Horatio stares right at this spot while he nurses. And, wouldn't you know it, both my kids are pickers, too. But, being children, they don't limit their picking to themselves and Horatio really wants to scratch that spot right off my skin.

Old fears of losing my life-force have been coming back to me as I slap a hand to my chest, thinking that if Horatio can no longer see the spot he will forget about it. But he tries with all his baby might to pry up my fingers.

So if you should find my hollow shell lying around near a cute little boy: BEWARE! He is a slayer of giants and no one's ichor may be safe.

Cats in Costume

Yesterday afternoon, in the car, Virginia was asking me about my day.
She said, "What made you happy today?"
I told her, "I sat with one of my friends at lunch and she told me that her cat wears sweaters! That made me happy because it is very funny."
Immediately Virginia replied, "Our cats can wear sweaters!"
Me: "I don't know, Virginia. I don't think they want to."
Virginia: "Why not?"
Me: "They have fur. They aren't used to wearing clothes."
Virginia: "They can just wear short sleeves."
She seemed pretty convinced they would be comfortable in short sleeves. And maybe shorts, too. Watch out kitties!

This is a pretty old picture of Penelope. (I have kids now. I don't take as many pictures of the cats!) But, I think she would agree with the sentiment on the pillow if I tried to dress her up.

Iron Bars

John and I were recently trying to explain to Virginia that I had a different last name before I married Daddy: Mazzaferro. And Virginia is kind of a Mazzaferro, too, even though it isn't part of her name. She wasn't buying it. "No! I'm Virginia Elizabeth Nelson!"

I said, "Hey, Mazzaferro is a cool name. It is Italian and it means 'iron club' or 'iron bar.'"

Without missing a beat, Virginia said, "Iron bars will bend and bow!" She was not at all impressed.

My grandfather, from whom I got the name Mazzaferro acquired a plaque in his later years that gave the translation and history of the name. As my sister read through the plaque one day she said, "'Mazza' means 'club' and 'ferro' means iron. So, Mazzaferro is 'iron club.'"

My grandfather said, "You're just like this one!" Pointing to my grandmother. "It says 'mazza' means 'club.' So Mazzaferro is club iron!"

My sister and I, who both took Latin and think nothing of inverting words in a translation, just shook our heads and said, "Okay, Pop."

We have plans to one day open a dance club called Club Iron, though. ;)

Elephants

As we were eating dinner last night I was trying to explain to Virginia that she needs to eat food that is good for her, and not just dessert, so she can grow big muscles. She said, "I already have big muscles."
"Oh, really?" I asked, "Can you lift an elephant?"
"Yes." She said.
I raised my eyebrows at her.
"A small elephant."
I said, "Oh. A small elephant."
But then she went on, "Maybe I could lift a big elephant if my daddy helped me."

John, you had better start lifting weights.

Update on Horatio's sleep:
He has had a couple really good nights this week. One night he actually only woke up once. I think that made me overly optimistic. Things aren't going to get better "overnight" (haha), but they are getting better.
We are still having him sleep in the crib and trying to put him down before he is fully asleep even if it takes a few tries (although now it rarely does). We've added in trying to slow things down before we do bedtime to help him get sleepy. It can be difficult to keep Horatio occupied during Virginia's longer bedtime routine and sometimes that means playtime for Horatio.
It takes a long time to put him to sleep at the beginning of the night and often he wakes up again before too long, so giving him a more restful bedtime routine makes sense as our next step.

Here is the little stinker in a pair of his sister's old pajamas, playing while we get Virginia ready for bed.

Confessions of a Sleepless Mommy

I have a confession to make. I haven't had a full night's sleep in over a year.

Horatio had pretty normal newborn sleep patterns. He awoke every few hours, I would nurse him, he would go back to sleep. His doctor told me at his 2 month visit that she is "ruthless" about sleep by 4 months. I was delighted that by 4 months, he was sleeping at least until 4am. The ruthless doctor and I were both satisfied with this.

Then school started. Horatio started waking up more at night. I kind of expected this. He didn't see me during most of the day and needed that time to reconnect through nursing. Even though he got ample nourishment through pumped milk while he was away from me, it is about more than food, so I understood.

But he kept waking up more and more and it sometimes became hard to get him to go back to sleep unless he was right up against me. I was exhausted, both because of his wakings and because I have to get up quite early to get to work.

It went beyond just adjusting to Momma being at work all day. Then it was, "Well, he's sick." "Well, he's teething." "Well, he's going through separation anxiety."

Well, well, well...

I don't do "cry it out." It is just not a parenting technique that appeals to me. And I really don't think it would work with him. When his cries go unanswered, or when we aren't able to sooth him for some reason, he works himself into a frenzy - not conducive to sleep for any of the parties involved.

I read The No-Cry Sleep Solution when he was still bitty, hoping to head off the ruthless doctor. I've known for a while now that techniques from that book would help me. It's just that they mostly result in less sleep in the short term. Yes, it is worth it because eventually you have a baby who sleeps multiple hours at a time. But just in that moment, when you can barely keep your eyes open, when you are calculating how few hours of sleep you will end up with tonight if you get out of bed, it is hard to decide to do what will make your baby into a good sleeper over what will just make him asleep.

But I'm pretty sure long-term sleep depravation is actually making me crazy. And I'm getting sick even more often than usual for a teacher with children in day care. Fortified with resolve from reading the Zen Habits blog and successfully beginning to cultivate other positive habits through small changes, I'm finally doing it.

I'm giving up even more of my precious sleep to gently train Horatio to sleep through the night.

John and I moved the crib away from the bed several weeks ago, but Horatio was still ending up in our bed most nights. No more. We are actually getting up and putting him back to sleep in his crib.

(Co-sleeping can be great and worked for us for a while. It just isn't working any more, and getting Horatio out of our bed seems to be an important step toward getting him to sleep better.)

We have even started putting him in the crib when he is not 100% asleep. This is a difficult thing to do and sometimes takes multiple tries. I promise myself that if I try 5 times and it doesn't work, I can do whatever I need to do. But the thing is that I used to give up after 2 or 3 tries, thinking, "This will never work!" Knowing I only have to try 5 times helps me to go on, and it actually hasn't taken 5 tries yet.

He is getting to where he will roll over and go to sleep the first time I put him down, maybe with a little bit of a back rub. And a couple times I've tried getting him back to sleep without nursing him, but I'm not going to push that step until we've mastered the first one.

Really getting up with him has made me realize how bad the sleep problem had become. He was waking up every two hours. Actually worse than when he was a newborn. And I had no idea because I wasn't getting all the way up.

The frequency of his waking has also been improving a little bit. It's not much, but I've only been doing this for a couple weeks. I know it will keep getting better.

To complicate things, Horatio is teething - and probably will be for most of the next year. I'm starting to notice when his restlessness is caused by pain, aided by the fact that he points at his mouth while crying. He gets pain relievers when this happens and usually settles down after a few minutes.

I'm putting this all here mostly because I need something to keep me honest. Even though I know it is working, in the late night fog there is always the temptation to snuggle him next to me and settle for a full night of half-sleep.

I'll be giving intermittent reports on building one positive sleep habit at a time. And before too long, I hope to be reporting that my neurons are firing at full capacity thanks to actually getting some sleep.

Animal Nature

I was thinking one day recently about things humans have to manage because we no longer live the lives our bodies adapted to live.

For example, we have to try not to eat too many sweet foods. Eating sweet things is a weakness of  mine and I know that evolutionarily, the drive to scarf down calorie-laden goodies made sense. In the harsh wild world you never knew when your next meal was coming, so if you found something good to eat, you had to eat it and eat as much of it as possible.

Unfortunately, in our brave new world, I could have access to a near-endless supply of ice cream, so my natural desire to hoover it is not serving me as well as it would have my prehistoric ancestors (if they had had ice cream).

This got me wondering what would have happened if another animal had become the dominant "intelligent" life-form on the planet. How would their lifestyle be incongruous with their body?

Like rats, for example. Rats have incisors that grow indefinitely. In the wild their teeth are worn down by gnawing.

But what if there were, like, rat-people. Rats that now live in civilized societies. Rats whose relatively easy lives do not naturally wear down their teeth. These refined and sophisticated rats still have to keep their tooth-growth in check. What would they do?

Would there be special places they would go to get their teeth trimmed, just like we go to barber shops and salons? Would the teeth be trimmed into different styles - angled, pointed, serrated (why not, they grow out)? Would some rats choose to have their teeth pulled and replaced with falsies that would have less long-term maintenance? Would some rats still grind their teeth down the old fashioned way - maybe hippie rats? And would some grow their teeth out because they have such lives of luxury that the physical difficulties caused by long teeth are no big deal ("It's okay, someone else chews my food.")?

Do you have more ideas? I'd love to hear them - on rat teeth or on other animals-as-people.

It's 2am - Do You Know Where Your Three-Year-Old Is?

Horatio had an especially bad night last night. He has another cold so it is hard for him to sleep lying flat. John and I were both up with him multiple times trying to help him back to sleep.

At one point, when John was up with Horatio, Virginia came into our room. She woke me up and asked for one of her stuffed animals. I walked with her back to her bed, found it under all the other stuffed animals she sleeps with, tucked her in, and went back to my room.

A little while later, John was still up with Horatio and Virginia woke me up again. This time I sleepily said something like, "No. Go back to bed."

She left the room.

John put Horatio down and he quickly woke up again. This time I got up with him. While I was rocking Horatio my phone started ringing. It was my mother-in-law. It was 2 in the morning. I was thinking this was probably not a good thing.

"Hello?" I answered.
She asked, "Do you know where Virginia is?"
My mind was racing. Did she wander outside and Grandmommy was driving by at 2am for some reason and saw her???
I think I said something like, "I told her to go back to bed..."
"Well she called me from John's phone and she told me she was in her Daddy's office."
John gathered something of what was going on went to find Virginia. She was still in the office.

This morning he found the other phone calls she made, emails she drafted, and websites she visited.

Also, we are setting up a sleeping bag in our room. There may not always be room in our bed for her, but she is always welcome in our room. And it's better than her roaming the house in the middle of the night.

What's in a Name?

Horatio has two namesakes. First, he is named after John's father, who was also a William H. The H was for Henry, but we thought it would be fun for our H to be for Horatio. Thus the second namesake, Lord Admiral Horatio Nelson.

We, of course, call him Horatio. Or The Admiral. But he has acquired a new name at day care. They call him Willie Nelson!

To be honest, this possibility hadn't really occurred to me before naming him, but it doesn't bother me. Just one more cool person from whom he can draw inspiration. And if it is possible to make any sort of predictions at less than a year of age, Horatio might be more likely to follow in the footsteps of Willie than the others.

He is rubbish at physics, as evidenced by the fact that he often tries to squirm from my arms with no regard for the law of gravity. I don't see him wrestling a polar bear any time soon and he constantly turns his sailboat over in the bath. But turn on some music and the boy starts dancing - bopping or swaying to the beat.

We are still calling him Horatio, but I am willing to spring for guitar lessons once his hands get a little bigger.

Nicest Manners

The Kindergarten classes are using the computers to look up books for the first time this week. (Before this they have been browsing the shelves.) My colleague, who teaches the younger grades, asked for "all hands on deck" to help these students with the little exercise she assigned. 

I was standing behind three Kindergarten students at the computers. K1 was moving pretty slowly, so when she finally found a book she was interested in I asked, "What do you next?" trying to urge her along.

K2, right next to her, said, "Well, then we are supposed to write down the number for the book and then ask a grown-up for help using our nicest manners."

I told him, "Nicest manners. I like that."

In the mean time K3 finished. He got up from his chair and stood in front of me expectantly. I prompted him, "I'm waiting for your nicest manners."

Without saying a word he turned and walked past me. (Maybe looking for an adult who didn't know the rules?)

I stopped him and said, "Wait. I will help you!"

Virginiaisms With Bonus French!

Virginia often falls asleep in the car on the ride to day care in the morning. One morning as I went to unbuckle her, her eyes flew open. I asked, “Were you just pretending to sleep? Were you playing possum?”
About a week later we arrived at day care and when I opened her door she looked asleep. But then, with her eyes still closed I saw a smile creeping across her face. I asked, “What are you doing?”
She said, “I’m a possum.”

After months (years) of asking Virginia about her day and getting no real response, I finally figured out that if I ask her about emotions she will remember things and share them with me. I ask what made her mad, sad, happy, and what made her laugh. One afternoon while we were driving home and having this conversation, I asked what made Virginia laugh that day and she started laughing so hard remembering it that she could hardly tell me! Then she tried to say it several times and I couldn’t understand her through the giggles that kept erupting. By this time I was laughing, too, and I didn’t even really know what was so funny. Finally I thought I understood, “You said, ‘Sleeping Beauty Butt?’”
She laughed, “Yes! I told [my friend] Sleeping Beauty Butt!”

One evening earlier this week, Virginia took a shower with me. She was giving me a hard time about getting out of the shower and then about coming out from under the towel to put on her pajamas. I told her, “Look, if you are going to pitch a fit about this, you don’t have to take a shower with me next time.”
Virginia crossed her arms and scowled at me and said, “You better not fitch a pit at me, Momma!”

Speaking of the scowl, one afternoon Virginia was whining from the back seat, “My eyebrows hurt!” I told her to stop frowning.

We watched Julie and Julia with Sugar recently and since then Virginia has started saying, “Bon appetit!” We also have a jar of apricot preserves by “Bonne Maman.” During another afternoon car conversation...
Virginia: “Momma, you are a bon appetit!”
Me: “No, I’m not. I’m a bonne maman!”
Virginia: “I’m a bon appetit!”
Me: “You are a bonne petite mademoiselle.”
Virginia: “You are a mademoiselle!”
Me: “I am a madame, because I am married.”
Virginia: “Boogery! You are a boogery!”
Me: “You are a mademoiselle boogery!”
Virginia: “You are a madame boogery!”

Nothing Is Horrible

All four of us have been sick on and off (or in John’s case on and on) for a couple of months now and just at the end of my winter break I had the opportunity to experience an ear infection. I’m actually still recovering from it, but past the initial hard part.

First let me say, I have new respect for my kids because ear infections HURT. Outside of the pain of labor the worst pain I have ever felt resulted from a complication of having my wisdom teeth removed called “dry socket.” It is easy to compare ear infection pain to dry socket pain because I ended up feeling both in my jaw. I now find it difficult to say which is worse. The pain of dry socket could ultimately be managed with large doses of advil, but got out of hand easily if I didn’t stay on top it. Ear infection pain seems to respond somewhat to painkillers, but the painkillers don’t take away the sensation of pressure (or the sensation of not being able to fully open or close your jaw).

A couple nights ago I noticed that my ear felt like it needed to “pop,” and for a little while I held out hope that that was all that was going on. But, as the evening progressed, my ear became very painful, with the pain spreading into the hinge of my jaw. Horatio was also sick that evening with a fever and John volunteered to take on the restless babe while I attempted to sleep.

Of course, lying down made the pain worse. I could feel myself fighting it. Not accepting the pain. Willing it away. Knowing that wasn’t going to work and I would just suffer. Believing this was horrible.

That’s when I paused. I have taken comfort and guidance from a mantra the past several years: “God is everything. Nothing is horrible.”

Usually I stop at “God is everything,” which can be a challenging enough notion when you are trying to view a particularly difficult person or situation as a true expression of God. But I know that the rest of the phrase is there and it especially floats to the surface when I find myself saying that something is horrible.

No. God is everything. Nothing is horrible.  

So, I paused. And lying there in bed, in “horrible” pain, I accepted what was happening to me. I conceded that pain is my perception of one aspect of the oneness of the world. I relaxed. I felt the pressure change in my ear. The pain became bearable.

I didn’t miraculously get better. I still couldn’t sleep all night and I had to see a doctor the next day and get medication. Days later I still can not fully hear out of my ear.

But it is not horrible.