Category: family

I know I’ve been AWOL. Before today, I hadn’t even picked up the camera since we left the state of Florida. We got home and decided it would be a great time to cry-it-out with Ellery. (“Hooray!” cheers Dr. Weissbluth.) But the next morning, after a whole lot of middle-of-the-night crying, we discovered she was running a fever and suspected an ear infection. (“Serves you right,” says Dr. Sears.) An subsequent doctor visit confirmed this, and we are now on the road to getting tubes. Five ear infections in five months. Fine. I throw in the towel. You win, viruses!

Anyway, we were just tired and buried under about twelve loads of laundry from that point on. We’re still working on digging our way out, but took a short break to visit our new nephew who was in town. Pierson/Pierce (proper labeling still under debate) is awfully scrumptious. So perhaps you’ll get so lost in the multiple photos that you won’t notice my four day hiatus.

When you become a parent, you realize that things were not exactly as you had pictured them. You have this idealized image of things you will do with your kids, and it’s this amazing thing and you’re well-rested and happy and fulfilled. But then you’re in the trenches, and you realize it’s not quite what you imagined it would be.

I hadn’t realized that it would be so much work. It’s a whole lot of make a meal, serve a meal, clean up a meal, fold laundry, clean toys, make a meal, serve a meal…you get the picture. And the poop? Good grief, I had no idea I would come in contact with SO MUCH POOP.

Anyway, this morning I was hiding in the bedroom paying the bills while Tom watched the kids in the living room. All of a sudden I started hearing music that was definitely not in the kid’s genre. And screams of delight. And loud thumps and bangs. After a while I got so curious that I wandered out to find Joan Jett blaring out of the record player and Tom and the kids having a rock-n-roll dance party complete with vinyl, guitars, and explosive jumps off the mini trampoline.

I think Tom was on the verge of tears. When he imagined what it would be like to have kids, this is EXACTLY what he had pictured, right down to the little guitar hanging around Shep’s neck.

So maybe it is possible that parenting is kinda what we thought it would be. Except that part about being well rested. I’m not sure that’s ever going to happen.

We’re probably going to be in our sixties by the time we get this whole garden thing figured out, but we’re giving it another try. This year? Raised beds. Word on the street is that it virtually eliminates your weed issues, which is what has done us in in years past. Plus, we’re going small this year. With four 4×4 foot beds, things should be manageable-ish.

Plus, it’s March! We’re starting our seeds kind of on time! Right?

I know, I know, I was just there, but when Shep looked up at me with his little saucer eyes and said, “I want to go to IKEA,” what was I supposed to do? Say no? And crush his little home organizing spirit? I think not.

Before Tom could protest too loudly, we were out the door for our first family trip to IKEA.

Which, for the record, would have gone swimmingly, if everything had gone according to plan. We got there without waiting a moment in traffic and sailed right into a parking spot. As I patted myself on the back, we began to unload. Ellery? Check. Shep? Check. Neko? Ch…wait. There’s Neko, but something is missing.

Yes, somehow Neko walked out of the house without her shoes. I have no idea how this slipped by us, but it happened. So we packed back in the car and hit a Payless where we scored these little gems, strictly because they were the cheapest shoes in her size.

By the time we got back, they weren’t letting anyone into the parking lot, so we went to eat pancakes. After pancakes we managed to park, but we clearly lost our minds in the interim, because not only did we go home with hot pink polka dot flip-flops, but we also managed to acquire a large, stuffed whale which is nearly as big as Neko.

I have now discovered a new law of physics. (Akiko, I’ll need to discuss with Paul how I should go about getting published.) When shopping with children at IKEA, the mass that you will contain in neat little swedish totes and shelves is directly equivalent to the mass of brightly colored objects your children will con you into buying in exchange for not completely imploding in all other areas of the store. Thus, even though you think you arrive home more organized and with more things neatly tucked away, the sum total of progress made in the battle of you vs. stuff is, in fact, zero.

Like clockwork, I can count on the newspaper arriving at my door. Literally, on the mat in front of our door.

This is not because we have an outstanding paper delivery person. No, that guy throws the paper at the end of our driveway, which, if you know us, is quite a distance from our house.

But without fail, my dad scoops up his paper and ours, and like Santa Claus, makes a stealth delivery to our front door. I never asked him to do it. He just does it because he’s just a good, kind Papa Joe kinda guy.

There seemed like no better way to break in the new IKEA than with a Godmother/daughters outing. Over swedish meatballs and other delicious goodies, we agreed that it was completely surreal to have an IKEA here. Where I can go back. Days in a row. Like I can get something, and decide it’s not the right thing and return it. Or decide I like it so much I need another, and go back!

Amazing.

The time went too quickly, and then they were all like, “People, we are closing. Locking up the doors. Putting the umlauts to bed.” Much too soon, it was over. But my head is already spinning with all the places in my house that I’ve been putting off decorating.

And when Crate & Barrel and the Container Store arrive on the scene? You may never see me again.

Today we had two birthday parties in the span of six hours. The first was from 10am-12pm, the next beginning at 1pm. With a quick stop at Chipotle in between, we made it through. The kids had a fabulous time at both. The parents had a great time, too, but are exhausted. The kids are exhausted, but in that “I’ve been at the beach all day” way. It’s events like this that the 2:3 ratio gets the best of us.

I neglected to take any pictures until the very end, where I snapped this quick photo of Ellery, who, if she could talk would be saying, “For Pete’s sake, will someone please just put me down for a nap?”

This was supposed to be a day where I curled up on the couch at the end of the day and posted the beautiful pictures of my children in a sea of maples trees being tapped for syrup.

As we were preparing to leave, Neko flat-out refused to get dressed. Tom decided it was time to lay down the law. So Shep, Ellery and I left without her. Which was kind of silly and sad, considering she was the one who would enjoy the experience most. She was really upset, but I think we’re making our point.

At the maple syrup thing, it was cold, and I was juggling two kids, so I didn’t even bother with the camera. So you’ll have to settle for some other random photos of our day, including kids wearing mixed-up clothes, kids climbing into cabinets, and the requisite Saturday morning Guitar Hero.