white noise

Haven't blogged in a while, obviously...Things have just been, well, blank. I loved being on vacation and there were nice things about being home too. But my mind is on a sort of white-noise autopilot at the moment. I think it's because my body is in sort of a physical limbo. I don't know what's going on and I can't do anything at the moment to find out more. Dave put Luke to bed tonight - while I was in the house - which marks the first time in Luke's entire 19-month-life that I have not nursed him to sleep (not counting the two or three nights I was out at bedtime and Dave gave him a bottle). I am feeling immeasurable sadness about weaning. I don't think it's something I can even properly express. Do people feel this sad if they stop earlier? Or is it even harder to stop the longer you've been doing it? Tonight I gave him a kiss goodnight before Dave put him down and I was ready to call off the whole plan. But I know it's for an inevitable good (for Luke), and if there's any cues my body is giving me about exhaustion, it's for my good as well.
Anyway. Too sad.
But let me focus on a happy thing for a moment. I have a three-day weekend every week - thanks to our plan to cut me back to part-time. This means that my joy about being home with Luke is tempered by the reality that we're on a collision course with a budget that doesn't make ends meet, but still, it's great. I had such a GREAT day on Friday that my good mood spilled over to Luke.
It's just today, or more specifically tonight, that my tiredness has spilled over into crankiness, or moodiness, or whatever. Let's home there's something "real" I can blame it on soon.

cook

Luke is really going all-out with his vocabulary development. Today he picked up "dish" just by talking with Dad. He went bananas when he saw "Elmo" on the porch next door. He's been saying "cook" all day and he murmured it to himself as he was sleeping. And he even told me to "shhh" while he was watching his Fiesta DVD.

I'm sure there are things I should be writing about, or events I should be recounting, but I just want to say that today was a complete pleasure. No specific agenda or anything. In fact any possible plans we might have made were thrown off by extreme heat, rain, and Luke's quirky sleep schedule. It just turned into a nice day of some shopping with Mom, some swimming with Luke, a brief round with the sprinkler, a nice dinner at home, and a fun romp at the mall. I love how much Mom and Dad love Luke and love spending time with him and doing things for him/with him. When Mom was reading him the book the other night, I could have watched them for hours. Lots of good feelings today - wish I could just bottle it up.

the nocturnal habits of dudes

aaaagh, it's been so long since I've been on the computer. That's good, though - real life takes over. We've been to the beach, the zoo, and NYC since I last signed on. We've even seen sharks - yiy! Suffice to say that Luke is cuter than ever, has more words, and I can't wait to show him even more. Having a blast and looking forward to two more days of the same.

uncoordinated

I need to just resign myself to the fact that life in a big beach house with 15 people is disorganized, and tensions can run high. Like if you get woken up from a deep sleep because it's a time of day when someone else is completely wide awake. That can get to you. Yep.

But on to other things - We went to the lighthouse yesterday and gave Luke a nice opportunity to dig dig dig. This morning he slept (mercifully) until 7:45 am. Then we took the whole crew out for a horse-drawn carriage ride. Luke and Sam were cracking each other up (much to the dismay of the driver/tour guide) by giving themselves loud raspberries. How could that possibly compete with a historical tour of Cape May?

While Luke slept we walked through the Chalfonte and got a little sense of history (the kind that we never seem to get in California). Tonight it's dinner with the Episcopalians on the church lawn. These are the kinds of things we never seem to do at home...

If we thought we might get over any issue that Luke had with sitting at the table, we've made the problem infinitely worse over the whole vacation. We're at the point where pretty much every baby more or less sits in a lap.

Once again, being extremely grateful to Mom and Dad for being so laid-back when crazy kids run around and refuse to cooperate with the plan of the moment. We're going to need all the calm in the world to prepare for the big clean-up tomorrow morning.

chaos reigns

So - You take five kids, age four and under; dislocate them and throw them off their respective time zones, nap schedules, and mealtimes; and mix them up in a strange house with a bunch of people they don't necessarily remember, and you have the ultimate chaotic lifestyle. This is vacation? Well, actually Dave and I had an unusual island of calm this afternoon when everyone went to the beach and Luke took a nap detour. I started "The DaVinci Code," which is supposed to be a real page-turner, but realistically, when will I have time to finish a 500-page book?

But more on our day: Helena is a real Luke look-alike (or Luke-alike I guess), with rosy red coloring and a mischievous grin. Antonia is incredibly engaged and conversational. Anotnia, Sam, and Luke spent some time running around like crazy people this evening, in what I think is a preview of cousin reunions to come. There was one point where they were actually hatching a coordinated plot to keep grownups out of the rooms they were romping in upstairs. Scary...

Dave and Luke and also I spent some family time this afternoon on a little trolley tour and walk around town. He is constantly impressing us with his words and mimicry: today's additions include "down" and I think, "butt," although I don't know where he got that (the cousins again?)

Mom and Dad continue to get credit for tolerance, organization, and forethought - all the way down to the presents Mom had for all the little kids when we celebrated Sara's and Antonia's birthday tonight.

My chief complaint so far: too much food and not enough willpower. I'm going to have to work on that, starting tomorrow, I think.

sweating it out

Last time I started by saying tired tired tired tired. This time that still applies only now I can add hot hot hot hot hot. Not just Palm Springs hot, but New Jersey humidity hot. We all have that special glow, even and especially Luke who is red-cheeked and sticky to the touch. Of course some of that glow, on my parents at least, is a glow of pride for now living in "the best town in America" according to Money magazine. "Everyone" is talking about it - and it even resulted in me getting some e-mails from high school pals.

But that's what it's like to have summers in New Jersey - you're hot as heck, but who cares? You're defiantly proud of who you are and where you live. Our little slice of beach is the best, at least for kids, with the super-soft sand and the gentle waves. The little beach boardwalk has ice cream, skee ball, and even slot machines - what's up with that? Yesterday I nearly made myself sick, popping in and out of stores along the promenade, switching from icy A.C. to thick humidity every five minutes. And today at lunch we gorged ourselves on sweet creamy fudge from Fudge Kitchen. That's the Jersey shore. Got a problem with that?

Luke is going through what seems like yet another transformation: Now that he sees big Sam sitting on a regular chair, he no longer wants to sit on a booster seat at all. Trouble is, his little head and arms can barely make it up to the tabletop to see his food. What's a little guy to do? Let's hope he doesn't get even more crazy ideas from Antonia when he sees her tomorrow.

Oh, and he has a few new favorite things, too - Taking an outdoor shower with Dad, sitting in the umbrella stroller, chasing after cats in Kitty Cat Alley behind our house, and lunging for the axes in the old firehouse. Go figure.

sand everywhere

Haven't gotten on to blog as much as I thought I might; we have been joking about "deciding to live life instead of blogging about it." I continue to have an irrepressible need to make goofy (or at least they sound goofy coming out) expressions of gratefulness to everyone: To mom and dad for finding such a great house; to mom and Joe for working so hard to plan and pack everything from seltzer to beach toys; to Joe and Sara for being so much fun to watch as parents; to Dave for being so easy-going and good-natured.

Luke is seemingly in conflict - surrounded by all sorts of interesting things that he really loves (cats, horses roaming up and down the streets, the beach) and yet strange and new circumstances that cause him to be wary and clingy. I'm trying not to be impatient about the constant nursing but I hope it's a phase he moves through quickly. Thankfully he ended his temporary booster-seat-strike at dinnertime and happily sat down to eat peas and chicken.

It has been great to have Joe and Sara to have as parental "role models" or at least to bounce concerns off of them. Seems like whatever phase Luke goes through, Sam has been there and Joe and Sara have dealt with it with their traditional good humor. And Mom too - how does she always know the right thing to say? After Friday night (when I accidentally woke Luke up and then took the next three hours trying to get him back to sleep) she had two comments - One, that "this is just a teeny tiny blip in a whole lifetime of parenting" and two, that "all children stop nursing eventually." Both true, and both what I needed to hear.

Things I loved watching in the past two days: Dave making Luke and Sam crack up as they jump and bounce on the bed; Dad making Luke crack up with his goofy tongue trick and Luke asking for it by sticking his tongue out at Dad when he sees him; Joe cracking Luke up with power-tickling; Luke seeing Joe and asking him to "cook"; Luke pointing to Lily and talking about the baby.

This house is just a dream for our group - a kid-friendly family room, a short scenic walk to the beach, the aforementioned horses trotting by every now and then, and air-conditioning, for which those of us weather-wimp Californians are eternally grateful.

We missed playing with Sam for a big chunk of the day because Joe and Sara took him to the hospital to figure out what was going on with his wheezing and crouping. He's in bed now with a humidifier. Let's hope he has a good night and will be up and at 'em tomorrow morning, ready for another day of toddler (pre-kid?) mayhem with Luke.

comforts of home

Not much to say today, just basking in the calm, quiet, etc. before the big beach trip. Having a blast watching Luke enjoy the toys, books, and bathtub that I once enjoyed myself. Does that make me a grownup?

tired

Tired. Tired tired tired tired tired. So, just a few quick things about the trip:

Things that seem like they may be bad but really aren't:

Southwest Airlines: Sure, it's a cattle call. But they treated us (and other families with kids) like royalty. Priority boarding, priority seating, first-class attention from the flight crew, you name it. All good.

McDonald's: Sure, it's McDonald's. But the free toy they gave Luke (and accompanying brochure) was somehow more interesting to him on the plane than the 17 other toys and books I brought with us for the trip.

Traveling with an 18-month-old: Sure, he can be a screamin' demon when he doesn't want to get in the car seat. But who can resist his cheery enthusiasm when he says "WOW!" to every shuttle bus and fuel truck that he sees?

Things that are just always good:

Dave: Who else can be relentlessly optimistic about a 90-minute-long check-in line, while all the time cheerfully managing a baby and 150 pounds of luggage? I can't imagine a better partner.

Coming home: Mom, Dad, cozy house, great food. What more can I say?

separation (anxiety)

Last night when I tucked Luke into bed I had a little pang of "it's our last night at home..." - and then a sort of reverse head-snap where I said to myself "What am I *thinking*!?!?" I've been looking forward to this vacation for months. Why would I feel sad or nostalgic about our last night of our little routine?

Something tells me it's all related to Luke's recent "tornado of trauma" that gets unleashed every time I step out of the room, let alone try to leave the house. The doc says we're in prime time for separation anxiety, and he seems to have mastered it.

That said, I seem to have some variation on those feelings when we start to pack up all our stuff to leave the house for two weeks. What if I forget my (fill in the blank)? What's going to happen to my (fill in the blank) while I'm gone? Is it all going to be OK? And even more curiously, is Luke picking up on some of these feelings?

I have to interject here that I just read the news this morning and learned about the hideous bombings in London. My heart sinks. Bad deal indeed. And another anxiety to add to the trip.

But I'm going to try a little meditation for a moment on what I'm going to look forward to - Sweet Antonia, cheery Sam, beautiful Helena, and tiny little Lily, whom we can't wait to get to know. And of course two solid weeks of sweet-smelling, sticky-kissing, happy-talking, crazy-blond-hair-everywhere Luke. I can't wait.

From one beach to another

After an all-out crazy hootenanny of a good time with Samson and the Fratello family this 4th of July weekend, it's time to focus on our Big Trip back east, coming up in just two days. Guess we need to somehow explain to Luke that we're going to get on a big airplane and take a five-hour flight and a two-hour drive to get to...the beach. And how do we explain to him what hot or even *humid* weather is going to be like?

Also, Luke and Samson were best of buddies for the last three weeks and they had a great time playing side-by-side. I wonder how Luke's going to feel about having four other buddies, of varying sizes, all clamoring for attention. With an 8-to-5 adult-to-kid ratio, we're almost in danger of being outnumbered .

As always, I'm dreading the flight, especially knowing that this time Luke will be more mobile than ever. We're going to take some DVDs ("Fiesta" and Raffi for sure), plus the "Dude" book and maybe some stickers. Let's hope that any meltdowns are few and far between, and that our seatmates either have their own children or high-quality earplugs.

But let's compare with my fears this time last year...That Luke's eardrums would explode, that he wouldn't sleep anywhere but his own bed, that I wouldn't be able to sleep (not that I could sleep in my own bed either), that I would collapse from lack of sleep, and so on, mostly sleep-related...Things have much improved in *that* department and I'm a more rested, happier mom.

And let's not forget that there is a big reward at the end of it all. I spend most of the year in contact with Ponessas by phone, e-mail, and .jpg. Those few days that we get to spend in person...well, let's just say those are some of the days that I am most grateful.