You Can Call Me Jan

And Added to the Lineup -- Whitney Elizabeth Parker

2011-12-13T16:34:00.002-05:00

My dear Whitney, here is your first letter from your tired mother. Please know that when you're eating and you look up at me with those intensely gorgeous eyes, I don't always look like a haggard shrew who smells like Cheetos and b.o. Before you were born, I actually showered every day and did my hair and bothered to wipe yesterday's mascara out of the corners of my eyes.

1 Month!!!

So now that we've cleared things up...let's talk about your birth story.

Your brother came fast and furious and was two weeks early. So, I was told by my doctor that you, too, would probably be about 2 - 4 weeks early and I should be prepared. Fast forward to week 39, when I still had no inclination that you would be arriving any time soon. At my 39 week appointment, my doctor basically said, "Welp, no contractions, we'll see you next week." Later that day my former mid-wife had me come in to see if I had progressed at all (b/c mommy's doctor, much to her chagrin, would not check her). On Friday (exactly 39 weeks), I was dilated 4 cms and 50% effaced -- terms I'm still not 100% sure about, but it meant you should be coming soon. But, alas, I felt nothing...no contractions.

Monday, October 17, I woke up with a slight pang that I thought might be a contraction. But then, nothing for the next several hours. Your brother and I went grocery shopping, picked up some pumpkins, and went about our day per usual. I would feel mild contractions sporadically, but nothing ever consistent and nothing that I had to breathe through (which I guess means you're near going into labor).

That night, I started to feel really uncomfortable, like you were sitting funny. I got into bed around 11:30 and just did not feel right. Around 11:45, I looked at your dad and said, "Imma having this baby tonight, pa." 5 minutes later you kicked really hard and my water broke. Well, broke is an understatement...my water, ahem, exploded and flood warnings were issued. I immediately began having hard...HARD contractions. My friend, Jen, hurried over to stay with your brother and your father broke the sound barrier racing me to the hospital. Fun little anecdote: whilst driving to the hospital at midnight, I felt the urge to push...it's true. So your father put the petal to the medal and bounced like the devil (shout out, Hova). He tried to get around someone on the two lane road on which we were driving. The other car took this as a drag racing challenge and immediately went into db mode and began to race us. I was this close to sticking my head out the window and shouting something pleasant. But please, who's going to beat the Grand Marquis? The geriatric-mobile totally beat that jerkface.

We got to the hospital and they wheeled me up to L&D. I love when you get to L&D, writhing in pain, leaking amniotic fluid and tell them you're in labor and they say, "Are you sure?" I'm sorry. Nope, I must be peeing myself for the last 20 minutes...without stopping. And this pain, must be indigestion in my lady parts. Silly fajitas for dinner. YES, I.AM.IN.LABOR. So they wheeled me into the birthing room, stripped me down, got me in bed and told me to fight the urge to push as the doctor was not there yet. Oh...okay. Just stop trying to push. Done. While we're at it, why don't I stop breathing and digesting my food.

Finally, they knew they couldn't hold you back any longer. Doctor or not, they were doing to deliver you. At this point, as I was experiencing a very al-fresco situation, your grandma walked in. The look of "holy crap" on her face said it all...you was a-coming. My doctor walked in like 10 seconds later. I pushed once and immediately felt a fiery pain unlike nothing else. One more time, and there you were. At 1:02 a.m. there was my sweet girl, screaming your head off. So, just in case you haven't been keeping track, you were born in one hour. ONE HOUR. Thank you. You are very efficient.

They immediately put you on my chest and my heart was yours. You were the most beautiful, goop covered little thing. I cannot describe in words that moment when you meet your child for the first time. It's beyond anything I have and will ever experience. It is the most amazing gift the Lord can give a mother.

You were 7 lbs exactly and 20 inches and had a head full of dark hair.

I stayed in the hospital two nights, even though they told me I could go after the first night. A.) Our insurance paid for two nights, so I was taking advantage of that and B.) I wanted that time where it was just you and me, and the occasional nurse who made sure my uterus was de-stretching.

This last month with you, while tiring, has been phenomenal. You have your occasional bouts of gasiness (due in large part to the pizza I ate the previous day...why did it have to be pizza that causes your gas? WHY??). But you are a champion breast feeder and pretty much low key.

I just want you to know how in love with you I am. After having Eli, I didn't think I could love someone as much as I loved him. My mom would tell me, after I would mention to her that my brother was the favorite child, that as a mom, you love your children equally. One child does not hold claim to more of the affection. So true, mom, so true. It's incredible how wonderful it is to experience this much love.

And even when you're wide awake at two in the morning with no signs of packing it in for the night, I will just stare at you in awe. You are a beautiful creation and I will love you beyond forever, my sweet Scout.

No Squirrels, Mama: Eli 31-33 Months

2011-12-13T15:53:00.001-05:00

Let's start this by saying 2 has been very...VERY challenging, and I'm hoping we've reached the apex of terrible twoness. That being said, I completely understand your frustrated spirit manifested in your "paranormal activity" behavior. This year has been hard on you...too many changes. Sometimes, I want to throw things and tell people "no" in the most blood boiling way. So here's to hoping. Dear 3, please come in like a lamb. Here are some highlights from the last three months, my dear Eli.

When I was little, according to grandma (although I do have vague recollections of a scary clown and a terrifying man dressed up like a gorilla), I was scared of pretty much everything. These things included, but were not limited to: black cats, men with beards, lawn mowers, the beeping sound forklifts or tractors made, clowns, and the Fonz (who took on the the antagonist role in my nightmares). So, it should come as no surprise to me that you, my son, who shares my genetic make-up, would also be a little high strung (I'm being very generous with the word "little"). You would also think that I would be sensitive to your plight, as it is something I've experienced; but, I find myself getting frustrated that we can't play outside without you needing a Xanax at the sight of a squirrel or that the sight of our church sends you into a catatonic state or that the waiters bursting out in a happy birthday song at Applebee's necessitates us to take you out of the restaurant until the absurdity is over. I'm convinced that you still have nightmares about trick-or-treating from this year. Just so I can remember this, Halloween was spent with you holed up in your sister's room shouting "NO MORE TRICK OR TREATERS!!" every now and then, me answering the door while trying to breast feed your sister and sweating like a large, hairy man in June. I'm sorry. I guess I'm frustrated that you don't feel safe and there's little to nothing I can do to help you. I feel powerless against your fears. I don't think that you being afraid is silly -- it's a very real emotion for you, and I understand that. I just wish I understood how to make you feel safe and why these things scare you.

This seems to be a reoccurring theme throughout these past months: uncertainty. You, my friend, like to test your boundaries. And I, like the new guy on border patrol, am uncertain what's okay to let pass and what needs a blow dart to stop it in its tracks (I, of course, speak metaphorically...I have not used a blow dart on you) (also, isn't that a horrible analogy? I mean I'm averaging 5 hours of sleep a night, so...just...okay?). Right now, when you tell us "no" or hit or scream or throw your toys or object to watching Jeopardy, sending you to your room seems to do the trick. You haven't seemed to realize that your toys are in there, just that we're not and you hate it.

But there have been many blood-pressure raising moments in stores, restaurants, parks, basically out and about. I can't send you to your room. And I know people have told me, "Just leave the store." But when I have a cart full of food or Target goodies, I am not going to do that, so leave me alone perfect parents. I will endure the 20 something female giving me a dirty look as you scream in the shopping cart. (You're welcome, 20 something, for your birth control for the day). You've almost become this equation I need to solve. How can I get X (my son) to travel through/endure Y (the store, the restaurant, my dr.'s appt) without wanting to Z (scream into a pillow)? I've discovered that time and food play a major part in the equation, as does my stress level. But there are so many unknown factors, like wind speed, air pressure, whether or not that stranger looked at you funny, were there squirrels in your general vicinity? You know...things beyond my control.

So, I'm sorry if you feel frustrated with my frustration/uncertainty. It's been a rough year for you, and you've had to accept a lot of changes. However, you can't use that excuse every day...you've reached your quota, my friend. Please know that when that little vein in my forehead becomes glaringly apparent or I raise my voice or I insult Bob the Builder, it doesn't mean I don't think you're still incredible. I will always think you're a wonderful little boy who I wouldn't trade for anything in the world, not even Coldplay tickets. And I hope you never doubt I love you and think that you are smart and talented and overall amazing.

Moving on to something not so uncertain; let's talk about you talking. I, admittedly, was a little worried about your speech development. I felt you should be saying more and talking more. People assured me you were fine, but I worried. Should I get you into speech therapy? I didn't want you to feel like I dropped the ball in this area. But as soon as we adiosed that pacifier, the words, they don't stop. The other day you walked into the living room after a particularly messy toy day and said, "Mama mia, look at this mess." Your dad just looked at me as if to say, "Where has he heard that?" You love to sing, you love to talk ALL THE TIME. A car ride does not go by without you narrating everything that passes by or comes into your brain. I'll never miss a red light because you let me know when they're occurring. I love hearing you talk. You have so many wonderful (and some not-so wonderful...ahem...let's say bye-bye to the word "no") things to say, and I'm glad you are so excited to share your thoughts, observations, whims. You're amazing to me.

Favorite things you say right now (this is for me for when my memory is shot due to all the Twilight I watch): when we don't quite understand something you're asking for and then we finally get it, you'll say "oh, that's what I'm talking about"; when you think something is great, "oh, mama, that is just beautiful"; "mama mia"; "oh, it's perfect" when we do something for which you're pleased. You're it, kid.

you and your cousins

Finally, we welcomed "baby sister" a month a go. It's heartwarming to see you with her. You are quite the protective older brother. If someone other than me or your dad is holding her, you become very concerned and make your discomfort known. The other night, your dad took down her pack and play b/c we bought something else for her to sleep in during her wee months, and you broke down. "No, daddy...NOOO!! I want to keep her...I love her!" You thought we were 86ing your sister. Break.my.heart.

It has been a challenge to keep both of you happy, and I'm sorry if you have felt neglected, because, my precious boy, for you to feel anything other than completely wanted and loved makes my heart hurt. You are beyond the most wonderful creation. I cherish everything about you, even when you throw my phone across the room. Now go to your room.

This Weekend...

2011-10-09T11:51:00.000-04:00

Can I be honest? While I do enjoy warmer temperatures, I am an annoying creature of habit. When the calendar says it's October, I expect temps in the 50s and 60s -- perfect for hot cider, long sleeves without coats, and Joni Mitchell. Also, my summer maternity clothes are not fitting over the belly right now, which makes for some awkward outings. I would prefer it if I could wear my colder weather maternity clothes that I had with Eli to cover said expansive belly. I know I'm in the small, small minority. Aaaand, yes, I know that when it is negative 50 and snowing in April I will curse myself for wishing the warm weather away, but these are not the seasonal temps to which I am accustomed and it's making my brain fuzzy. I was telling Ben my thoughts on this last night, and he just rolled his eyes and said, "How could you not enjoy 80 degrees in October?" Well, I don't...okay...so just...okay?

Anyway, this weekend, we took Eli to a train extravaganza at the Jackson train depot. It's called the "Heritage Tour", and I guess this train, which is a museum inside, is traveling across the U.S. and stopping at several depots to commemorate Amtrak's 75 years. Just so happened that it stopped in Jackson, MI this weekend. That's right...our proud little depot, which sits across from famous Jackson watering holes Coney Island and Potter's Gentleman's Club was chosen as a stop for this traveling museum. Aaaand since it was 80 degrees out and Eli has a slight obsession with trains, we thought, hey let's mosey on down.

So, I'm not sure if I've mentioned lately, but I'm very pregnant right now...very pregnant and uncomfortable...very pregnant, uncomfortable, and awkward behind the wheel of a car. So, I'm trying to find a parking spot at this train-a-palooza. I drove into a parking lot by the station and it was full, so I decided to back 'er up and continue my search. So, I pulled behind a car to get ready to back 'er up, and then I apparently blacked out. Okay, not really...but my 16 year old self took over behind the wheel and hit the gas when she should have hit the brake and hit the car in front of me...the parked car. Stupid 16 year old me. I honestly don't know what happened. I pulled behind the car, baby kicked suuuuper hard or elbowed or pile-drived my kidney or whatever, and I was temporarily insufficient to handle heavy machinery, and I hit a car. I HIT A CAR! Okay, so I was going 2 miles an hour and no one was hurt or strained or driven to labor by brief moment of 16 year-oldness, but I did put a dent in the bumper of the car, oh and ours, too. Baaahhh...I hate my stupid self. So, after I determine that I, in fact, did not just give birth and that everyone is okay (including my poor father, who was in the car, too, and who I'm sure had Nam-like flashbacks to when he was teaching me how to drive), I consulted with my attorney (my dad), called the police to see if they had to come out (which they didn't because it's private property), took pics of the debacle, wrote my info down and stuck a note on the impaled car's windshield praying that the owner of the car is a rational person who will not make me cry for hitting his/her car. I have yet to receive a phone call from said vehicle owner.

So during this whole scene, my child was perfectly calm and serene. He even offered to give me a back rub. Oh wait, that's right, he was hysterical. One moment screaming for "GAMPA...GAMPAAAA!!" the next "CLOSE THE DOOOOOR!!! MAMA, CLOSE THE DOORRRR!" the next "NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO" the next "GET ME A DRINK!!" Just kidding on the last one, but he did need some sort of sedation to help him through this crisis which will forever leave a black mark on his fragile psyche.

Then, as if he could hear my panic attack coming, my dear husband called. You know when you're sick or had a bad day or hit a parked car and you hear that one person's voice who can stir the deluge of emotion just kind of hanging out there and then you burst into tears? For me, it's my mom and Ben. So, Ben calls to tell me he's coming down to the train station on his break to see us and I tear up and tell him that I'm an unfit mother whose keys should be taken from her. I honestly felt like a crack mother who took a joy ride with her child...I felt AWFUL...for the rest of my life. Ben's response was perfect. He wasn't mad, he wasn't chastising...he was understanding and gracious and lovely. I love that guy.

So, we found a parking spot in the middle of a field away from any other cars (I'm not joking) and enjoyed the train-a-palooza. Eli was not too thrilled about the museum inside the train, mostly because there were people in it he didn't know, scary mannequins, loud sounds. At one point, we walked into a car where there was a recording of a conductor yelling, "ALL ABOARD!" and Eli looked at us with fear in his eyes and said, "No, no not all aboard...NOT ALL ABOARD!!!!!!!" He did have fun inside the depot where they had Chuggington train tables set up for kids to play with and a big electric train table. He loved it.

So that's my tale. It's harrowing and I'm expecting Lifetime to call for the rights to it at any moment. Until then, you can enjoy my pics from the event (sans the ones I took for my insurance company).

"For the love of all that's holy, NOT ALL ABOARD!"

Scary mannequin...1 o'clock.

Completely enthralled by the electric train display.

Oh, and remember my midwife told me to be ready to have this baby at 36 weeks? Good times. I am officially 38 weeks pregnant with no signs of labor in the near future...so there's that.

Before and After: Kids' Rooms

2011-10-06T11:55:00.001-04:00

I finally finished Scout's nursery today. In honor of the completion, I thought I'd post before* and after shots of her's and Eli's rooms. These are for you, grandpa! :)

(*The before shots were taken prior to us moving in...they are shown as decorated by the owner at that time)

Eli's Room: Before

Color: Periwinkle, Border: Flowers

Eli's Room: After

Eli's "Fort" Bed

We still have two pics to hang up over his bed...one of Comerica Park and another baseball one.

Where the Wild Things Are and Baseball growth chart

Color: Tiger's Blue and a Beige color, Border: None

Scout's Room: Before

Notice the super cool valance that I nearly killed myself with when I tried to take it down myself.

Scout's Room: After

Notice the air mattress set up for mom and mom-in-law (separate visits) post baby.

Her initials will go in the middle frame...monogram style

I have a wooden letter of the initial of her first name that will go in the empty frame on the left, and then I'll put pics of her in empty frames.

My $10 garage sale dresser that Ben sanded, repainted, and re-knobbed.

Color: Grape Cream (I was looking for a purple-grey color) Drapes: Grass (color) Eclipse Drapes (the ones that are supposed to be energy efficient)

Fin.

36 Weeks & 31 Months

2011-09-26T10:38:00.000-04:00

This first picture was taken by my way-too-literal husband after I said, "make sure you get the belly."

And then this one was taken after I clarified instructions:

And this one was taken cause this kid is so stinkin' cute (this is how he smiles for the camera...eyes closed saying cheeeeese):

Hooray for Scout!

2011-09-11T14:03:00.000-04:00

Yesterday, my dear friend Sara threw me a shower for my impending bundle of loveliness. And in Sara Luke fashion, it was incredible. The food, the decor, the company -- all contributed to a perfect Saturday afternoon topped off by the fact that I was not responsible for watching my child for three hours. I received some great gifts and am feeling more ready for the blissful chaos that will descend upon my life in T - 5 weeks. sweet mercy.

Thankful for all these lovely ladies (and those who couldn't make it). My friends are such a blessing!

The genius behind the day. Thank you, Sara!

My 34 week belly. Pardon the lighting...I am currently taking donations for a camera upgrade.

Eli is 2 1/2

2011-09-03T13:02:00.001-04:00

I haven't written an update for you in 6 months! I have been writing things down using, what historians will later call, pencil and paper as you've grown these past 6 months, but I haven't gone all fancy and typed them up on this fancy computational machine. Why, you ask? My dear child, I have no reason other than you turned two, I turned pregnant, your father started a new job, and we moved; and my initiative to write took a backseat to all those things. I'm sorry. You'll probably hear me say that a lot as you grow, but I am sorry if you feel slighted by the absence(s) of an update.

So here's how this is going to go down. I'm going to post some pics from each month that I did not update, along with some fun facts about you from each month (referring back to my archaic writing methods). Thennnnn, I'll do another post wherein I go into more detail about the little man you're becoming. Then, there will be no homework. Any questions?

Here we go:

24 Months: Jan - Feb:

You turned 2
You were dedicated
Your adoration for Thomas and all things trains has grown to President of Fan Club status
You love to finger paint
You love to ride the elevator in our building (former building)
Temper tantrums have become more prevalent
You looooove beans and rice
You found out you will be joined by a sibling

25 Months: Feb - March:

Your great-grandpa and Laura Jean came to visit
You enjoyed unseasonably warm temps
Your "will of your own" has tested my patience on numerous occasions
You like to exert your "will of your own" in public, especially at Target and family dining establishments
Your mom is sick a lot due to sibling in her tummy
Your favorite book is Pigeon Wants a Puppy and you mimic the voices I make
You can point out a McDonald's within a 2 mile radius

26 Months: March to April:

Your daddy started a new job, which means he's not around as much, something for which you vocalize your disdain on a regular basis in the form of screaming fits...it's awesome.
It snowed in April and I cried.
You will play with your matchbox cars for hours...and love to bring them all out to the lobby of our building.
You love collecting rocks...after a walk you will come home with a batch of new rocks that sit in your wagon until our next venture.
You're starting to become fearful of people and things and have become very clingy with your mama.
Your memory of things both astounds and frightens me.

27 months: April - May:

We started looking for a new house.
You loooove hanging out with your daddy's RAs and being one of the guys.
You're not adjusting well to your daddy not being around as much.
You threw the mother of all temper tantrums at a mall in Grand Rapids during which I'm sure child protective services was called, b/c I took you in a bathroom and you screamed for 10 minutes straight...screamed like you were being beaten (which you were not). And then I cried most of the way home due to frustration and a feeling that I was failing you as a parent.
Time outs are becoming more prevalent.
You looove hanging out with your friends Ben, Bryleigh, Avery, Nolan, Bailey and little Aubrey.
Sharing with your favorite friends is a concept that escapes you.
Church nursery scares you and you cry the entire time.
You are turning into quite the comedian and crack me up with your expressions or what you say on a regular basis.
You loooove spaghetti.
You love rice.

28 Months: May - June:

We moved!!
You started sleeping in your awesome big boy bed (that your dad picked out, so it comes equipped with a built in fort).
You get to see your friend Ben a lot more because we moved across the street from him.
It is the hottest summer since the earth cooled from its lava state, and we have no air conditioning.
You are talking a lot more; you and I are having conversations, which is awesome.
You loooove being outside at your new house.
You found out you are having a baby sister.
You and mommy have breakfast dates at Dunkin' Donuts once a week where we share a big thing of chocolate milk...oh, and we eat donuts.

29 Months: June - July:

We got to spend a week and a half ~~disrupting~~ visiting with your Grandma and Grandpa Parker.
You watched fireworks for the first time (in the safety of a car, b/c you are currently afraid of loud sounds...like clapping).
Your favorite new expression (which you learned from your grandma) "Go away, go see your mom"...usually said to bugs.
Both you and mom were sick and miserable together.
I thought we might melt in our house due to alarming summer temps.
We swim at your friend Nolan's house A LOT!
We swim at your Grandma and Grandpa Rick's house A LOT!
PACIFIER IS GONE!!! You gave up your pacifier around the time you got sick, b/c you were throwing up. It was much easier than I thought. I canceled our appointment with the hypnotist.

30 Months: July - August:

I'm really at a loss on how to help you feel unafraid of things. I went through a similar phase when I was your age (so I've been told) during which I was afraid of men with beards and lawn mowers and basically anyone other than my mom...so maybe it's genetic.
You're talking has skyrocketed since the pacifier took its exit. It's insane. Your father turned to me during a particularly talkative car ride and said in a voice that mimicked mine "Ben, do you think he'll ever talk?"
Whenever we ask you where your baby sister is, you lift up your shirt, point to your belly and say, "in Eli's tummy".
I'm trying to be consistent with church nursery, so you'll get over your fear. I don't think I've heard an entire sermon from beginning to end in the last two months.
Your current toy obsession is your water table that your grandma and grandpa bought you at a garage sale. You brave the vampire mosquitoes just to be able to play outside with it.
You went to Lake Michigan for the first time with mama and some of her college friends. You l-o-v-e-d it, as well as my friend Mandy's little girl, you little Casanova, you.
Count down to big-brother duty (hee hee - duty) - 2 months.

To Do List

2011-08-28T11:04:00.003-04:00

The following is a list that has been clogging up my synapses for the last week and has caused me to occasionally hyperventilate in a corner. I'm hoping if I write it down, my ulcer will cease and desist.

ahem...

THINGS THAT NEED TO BE DONE WITHIN THE NEXT 6 WEEKS, OR THE WORLD WILL END:

(the abridged version)

1. Paint bathroom
2. ~~Remove remaining wallpaper backing in said bathroom prior to painting~~
3. ~~Hang items in Eli's room~~
4. Arrange/Organize Scout's room
5. Wash Scout's bedding, blankets and clothing
6. ~~Buy Dreft~~
7. ~~Hang frames in living room~~
8. ~~Finish painting Scout's dresser~~
9. ~~Line Scout's dresser drawers~~
10. ~~Go to Ikea/Michaels to buy finishing nursery touches~~
11. Clean the bathroom
12. ~~Paint my toenails (or bribe someone else to do it, as I find it increasingly difficult to see my toes)~~
13. ~~Cut my hair (or whatever you would call the current hot mess atop my head)~~
14. Get Eli over his fear of church nursery, clapping and loud noises (which will be detailed in another post)
15. ~~Get Eli's hair cut~~
16. ~~Buy a big brother gift for Eli~~
17. Continue to pray that this child will be easier to breastfeed than Eli was
18. Sterilize breast pump accessories and bottles
19. ~~Buy bottles~~
20. ...

Okay, never mind, this list is making it worse. I think my blood pressure is dangerously high.

Eight is Great

2011-08-08T22:35:00.000-04:00

All kings, and all their favourites,

All glory of honours, beauties, wits,

The Sun itself, which makes times, as they pass,

Is elder by a year, now, than it was

When thou and I first one another saw:

All other things to their destruction draw,

Only our love hath no decay;

This, no tomorrow hath, nor yesterday,

Running it never runs from us away,

But truly keeps his first, last, everlasting day.

-John Donne

Happy 8 Years, Benji...I love you.

Wide Load

2011-08-02T22:40:00.001-04:00

12 weeks

still wearing non-elastic waste pants
looks like I have a food baby
nauseous all the time
bathroom not cleaned

22 Weeks

Found out we're having a Pheobe (vs. Pheobo)!!!
Have adopted a no-do-hair-ever attitude
Elastic pants for sure
Sweating all the time
Bathroom still not cleaned

25 Weeks

Somehow, belly looks smaller in this picture -- must be the non-tent shirt I'm wearing.
Baby is kicking her way out of the womb
Escaped up north to in-laws' for a week for sweet, air-conditioned relief.
Heartburn in full effect...threw up on the side of 127 on way up to in-laws' due to acids of fury clawing their way out of my esophagus

28 Weeks

3rd trimester
Sweating more than is natural for any large mammal
Pretty sure I'll test positive for gestational diabetes due to all the chocolate I've been consuming
Scout has hiccups every morning and night at the same time
We're not naming her Scout despite my pleadings
Thankful for Hostess cupcakes (see picture)
Reconsidering stripes for my next picture
Had a mini-panic attack in the baby aisles of Toys R Us
When I tell people I'm due Oct. 23 they ask if I'm having twins

Now, I know you're all jealous of a.) my sweet photography skills, b.) the raccoon-like freckle clusters under my eyes, c.) my personal grooming, but with great awesomeness comes great apathy.

Whose Child is That?

2011-07-24T14:36:00.001-04:00

Heard whilst out and about with my toddler today:

"Don't worry, I had one just like that...he'll grow out of it."

"He's a handful, huh?"

"Let me help you with your cart, you've got enough to deal with with that one."

"Good thing he's cute, huh?"

If 3 is worse than 2, I might have to take up drinking.

This One's for the Fans...

2011-07-01T11:26:00.000-04:00

I know...I know...I haven't updated since Moses was a boy, but I've been busy thinking about unpacking from our move while watching free HBO.

So here's something that's been swirling around in the recesses of my mind for the last couple of days...and then I promise I'll update with pics of house and Eli (sans pacifier, people...parents: 1, Eli: still more than the parents) and maybe a pregnancy picture so you can see another beautiful life contributing stretch marks to a previously Olive-Oil-like frame.

So, since we moved to Jackson, I've encountered a whole new culture group. If you've never visited Jackson, MI (the supposed birthplace of the Republican party, home to Cascades Falls -- they light up, people, and the Hot Air Jubilee), you should drive through some time on your way to that U of M game, eat some White's Chicken and just take in the general societal splendor that will surround you. If you're feeling really daring, head on over to Wal-Mart at 11:00 at night or just watch One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest -- you will feel the same after either experience. Anyway, people here often remind me of a bad In Living Color episode. You don't know why you're watching, but you can't tear yourself away. Not to say that people here aren't lovely...they're just different from the Christian liberal arts community we've sequestered ourselves in for the last 8 years.

Anyway...I usually get gas now at a gas station 2 seconds from our house. It usually makes for great social theater. So I've noticed that every...E.V.E.R.Y. time there are two guys who are also getting gas who realize they know each other from that softball league they were in two years ago. The exchange goes something like this:

"Hey, bra...what's up?"

"Not much, bra...good to see you. You playing in the league again, bra?"

"No, bra...hurt my shoulder last year."

I'm not lying. Every time...there is a "bra" reunion whilst I'm getting gas.

Now, here's my question: Why do guys call each other bra? Is this a Jackson thing...b/c I know we tend to be behind on social trends. Was bra an accepted term at one point? Because I don't think Christian liberal arts college students ever called each other bra. Do they not realize they are using the same term for a device perfected by Victoria's Secret? It's a bit feminine.

Also, it's stupid.

So yesterday, whilst I was taking my fever ridden child for a car ride so that he wouldn't entirely rot his brain from all the Shaun the Sheep we had been watching, I stopped to put gas in my husband's geriatric-mobile. And again, there was a "bra" convention happening at pump 3.

I got back in the car and turned to my son for an explanation as a representative of his sex. I expected some type of archetypal answer. "Because, mom...it's how we let the world know we have testosterone," or "It's a tribal secret, mom. You'll never understand." But my sweet little boy looked back at me with those gorgeous brown eyes and said:

"Go to town, mama...get fench fies."

A man after my own heart.

Where's the Fire?

2011-05-18T15:51:00.000-04:00

Eli and I went to Meijer the other night, and before we left I told him to go get his hat. This is the hat he brought to me...and insisted on wearing.

Here's the Rundown

2011-05-16T01:36:00.003-04:00

Our House: I have been hesitant to comment on our home buying experience. Not because it's been awful; it's been quite the opposite. But mainly b/c I'm afraid if I put something out there in the universe about buying a house, something dreadful will happen, like it will spontaneously go up in flames or a den of angry badgers will be found in the attic. So, all I'm going to say is, we're buying a house. And I never knew so much paper work was involved. I'm expecting a phone call any day demanding that we give the bank Eli as a down payment. These folks are serious. I mean what happened to make lenders all wary about giving out home loans? Geesh.

McDonald's is for Suckas: I used to be a fast food fiend. I mean I used to make Taco Bell bean burrito runs at 12:30...a.m....after I graduated from college...and was legally supposed to be an adult. I even watched Super Size Me while eating a Big Mac...just kidding. But the movie really had no effect on me. However, ever since I got pregnant with Eli, fast food and I have been on the outs. Even after I had Eli, it never sounded very appealing to me, which I'm sure my liver is happy about (dangling preposition). However, a couple nights ago, I had a craving for a McDonald's hamburger. So, at 8:40 p.m., e.s.t., I pulled into our local McDonald's drive through. I ordered two hamburgers, a small fry and three chocolate chip cookies. What?! I was hungry. The baby wanted cookies. Stop looking at me, swan.

Anyway, I pulled up to get my food, when a very nice gentleman informed me I would have to wait two minutes if I wanted chocolate chip cookies. Two minutes? Pssh...worth it. So I was asked to pull forward so that other customers who were not on their way to adulthood obesity could collect their sensible orders. 10 MINUTES LATERRRRR....a girl ran out with my cookies (which, by the way, were fresh out of the...whatever they bake stuff in at McDonald's) but not my hamburgers...the whole reason for going to McDonald's. I politely asked her where my hamburgers were and she was all, "They didn't give them to you? Be right back." Her be right back had the intonation of a teenager who'd rather her parents get off her back...geez...I'll get to it when I feel like it. 5 MINUTES LATERRRRR she came out and was all, "I just gave you two mcdoubles with cheese. Is that okay?" Ummmmm...no. Anyone who knows me knows I despise cheese burgers with every fiber of my being. The biggest fights between myself and Ben have found their genesis in a misunderstanding over a cheeseburger. Also, if I wanted a mcdouble with cheese, I would have ordered one....they're a DOLLAR. So, I very politely said, "Ummm...no, I really would just prefer my hamburgers." To which she replied, "Uggghhhhh." (oh also, it's pouring down rain during this whole fun-filled trip). So, I was like, "You know what, I'll just come in."

So I pulled around, took my beyond-fed-up toddler out of his carseat, carried him through the rain inside to get my two hamburgers. The manager came up to the front to greet me, and I thought, "Cool, she's going to apologize and give me free stuff." Nope. She was all, "Can I help you?" And I was all, blank stare. "Ummm, yeah, I've been in the drive through for 20 minutes waiting on two hamburgers." And she was all, "Why didn't you want the mcdoubles?" And then I was all, "Because if I ingest cheese, I will die, fartface." Not really. I said (very politely), "I just wanted two hamburgers." So she was like, "Okay." 3 MINUTES LATERRRRR whilst my child is pushing a highchair around the store, I get my hamburgers sans apology. Grrrrrrr. Note: I am so completely afraid of confrontation, that this rant will be what I do about my experience.

Master, whaa?: I love going to school. It's true. I'm a nerd. So I was super psyched when I decided to start my master's courses this past fall. But I also love not being in debt. So when Ben and I decided I would get my master's, we decided we would pay for it as I went along...no loans (which is hard when you only have one income). But, we got a great discount on master's courses because of Ben's job at SAU, and we didn't have any mortgage payments, so we thought this year would be a good time to at least get my 18 credits of continuing ed. So I took my first class in the fall, and we paid for it. I was supposed to take a class in the spring, but my work schedule conflicted with it, so I pushed it back to next spring. No big deal. I was signed up for three classes this summer. And then...some things happened: Ben got a new job, we are no longer able to get his discount on master's courses at SAU, we're buying a house, we're having a second baby, and McDonald's will not cover it even though I waited over 20 MINUTES FOR TWO HAMBURGERS, so I'm dreading making a decision about what to do with my courses. I'm dropping one of my summer classes, hoping I can cover my other two classes. I'm optimistic right now, but kind of bummed at the same time. There's a whole lot more that I could say about this topic, but I don't want to...so just...okay?

Baby Numero Dos: We find out whether we're having a Pheobe or Pheobo June 6. After careful consideration, I will not be posting pictures of my uterus on the internet (not b/c I judge people who do, I totally did with Eli...it's just a personal choice this time around), but I will let you know what we find out. Also, I felt Alejandro (my name for the child for now) kick for the first time last week. He/She was either kicking or chewing some Bubble Yum. One more thing, I'm in that in between phase where I'm showing, but people don't want to ask whether I'm pregnant or just having a food baby. So people just look at my stomach and then back at me and continue talking to me like I didn't just notice them looking at my stomach.

Big Boy Bed: Our plan is to not set up Eli's crib when we move. We're just gonna have him sleep on the floor...he likes depriving himself...we think he's going to be a monk. Actually, we don't want him to feel all kicked out of his crib to make room for Alejandro, so we wanted to have him start out life in his new house in a big boy bed. But, we also didn't want it to be a shock to his system...new house, family of badgers, big boy bed...so we're easing him into it. We took the "cover" (as he calls it...or the front) off his crib tonight to convert it into a toddler bed. Now, my son is a creature of habit. If you try to change up his routine, he starts killing people with just his words. Luckily, after coaxing him off the ledge, he tried it. We had to put his entire library of books in the bed as well as some of his cars, several stuffed animals and a trip to Disney World in order for him to even climb into the bed, but he got in. Parenting success. It's been four hours, and he's still there...probably trapped under all his books.

Milk Dud: 1, Tooth Filling: 0: Last summer, after 29 years of being cavity free, I had to get three cavities filled. It seems that along with my stomach muscles and ability to hold pee, being pregnant also deprived my body of a lot of calcium (mostly from my teeth). So, I had them filled and went on my way. Fast forward to this week. I was enjoying a healthy snack of milk duds when all of the sudden I felt a disturbance in the force. The caramel deliciousness was tugging on something in my mouth. I pulled the half masticated milk-dud out of my mouth to discover a tooth like entity clinging to the dud. Wha??? My mind immediately went to the most dire possibility of what could be happening: I for sure had a raging infection in my mouth that was currently traveling via my blood stream to my unborn child...that's the only logical explanation as to why my teeth are falling out...oh my word, my teeth are falling out...I'll have to start parking broken down pick up trucks on my lawn and insist Ben wears his nicest wife beater around our fancy company. After I frantically called the dentist convinced she would want to see me immediately...to save my unborn child, she asked me to describe what the tooth-like entity looked like. I described it to her and she told me it was probably my filling and she could see me in two weeks to replace it. After I asked her if my unborn child was in danger, she calmly explained that a misplaced filling would do no damage to my child. Then she hung up and told everyone what a whack job I was. Just kidding, she's so nice. Not like those miscreants at McDonald's.

Eli Has an Announcement

2011-05-02T15:04:00.000-04:00

And while we do encourage his philanthropic side, this announcement has nothing to do with his efforts with the Big Brothers/Big Sisters organization, rather the idea that he will be joined by another sibling in T - 5 months.

Here are the stats:

Baby Age: Baby Parker, Take Two is 15 weeks along, i.e. 2nd trimester
Are we going to find out: We are going to find out whether we're going to have a Paul or a Paula (these are not names we are considering...sorry, Paula).
Symptoms: I was very nauseous the first 12 weeks, and it usually occurred at nighttime, which is when I usually post on my blog, which explains my absence for the last three months. Also, I...ummm...well, let's just say I needed to increase my fiber intake...sweet mercy. Aaaand, I would lash out at my husband for no apparent reason, like if he was breathing too loudly or got me a traditional glazed doughnut rather than a twist tie doughnut that was also glazed. He really enjoyed the first trimester.
Expected Arrival: October 23
Cravings: Salty stuff, root beer and Grey's Anatomy

Fin.

Parkers Exit Stage Left

2011-03-28T11:07:00.000-04:00

Where have I been? Why have I neglected you so? I do have good reason. Life has been, um, changing very rapidly. So, I have in mind what I need to update on, and I have created a checklist to keep me accountable.

Eli's 2nd Birthday and party
~~Ben's new job and SAU's blessings~~ check
Looking for a house
My grandpa's visit
King Eli's ever-changing demands (he now tells us which way he wants us to drive when we get in the car)
Summer plans

I do want to fill you in one of the most significant changes in the Parker household. After 8 years of employment at SAU, Ben has taken a job with Jackson County Sheriff's Dept. He actually started today (Monday). We will continue to stay at Spring Arbor through the end of the school year, as Ben will be performing his RD duties (hee hee - duties) in a part time capacity. Which is awesome, because we get to stay here for a while longer until we have to find a house.

I feel like I'm taking this change harder than Ben. Don't get me wrong, Ben has enjoyed his experiences at Spring Arbor, but he was ready for a change. I, on the other hand, don't handle change that well...even good change. It throws me off my axis, and I feel like life is askew until I can wrap my head around what has changed. I started at SAU in 1999, graduated in 2003, got married that summer, where after Ben immediately started his job in admissions and we rented a house two blocks away from campus; Ben took the RD job in 2006, where after we moved back on campus, and now here we are. I have literally not left Spring Arbor University since 1999.

I can see your eyes rolling. I know it's time to move on, but just...you know...okay?

So, we're moving in a couple months. The university has been so gracious in their accommodations for us. We are able to stay on campus until June 15, which gives us ample time to find a house. The location has yet to be determined. We want to stay in Spring Arbor township so Ben could remain on the fire dept, but houses are pretty difficult to find here, so we may be moving in to the booming metropolis of Jackson, which has got me seriously thinking about where we will send Eli to school.

But that's for another post. Until then...deuces.

Top Ten List...the Final Countdown

2011-02-17T14:16:00.000-05:00

I know all of you have been waiting with bated breath for the final four events on my top 10 list. Well, feel free to exhale, because here it is.

4. Welcome to English 9 (& 10 & 11 & 12...oh and Psychology): my first teaching job. I was fortunate enough to land a teaching job right out of my schooling (well, the 2nd time around). I will never forget the phone call I received from the principal. My heart fell to my stomach, did some splashing around, and stayed there until I almost threw it up. I was beyond thrilled. With my heart full of pride, I giddily drove to the school the following day only to discover that I was the only English teacher. It was a small charter school of about 60 high school students...when soaking wet. I would be teaching all four years of English as well as developing a Psychology curriculum for an elective class. This time my heart went straight to my bum, whereafter I almost pooped it out. I honestly did not think I would be able to do it. I remember sitting on our living room floor trying to get ready for the year with binders and papers and books all around me breathing into a paper bag whilst crying. But, the Lord is my shepherd...and I made it through...and I only came home crying for two weeks. Even though the job was challenging, and my worst fear of having students who were smarter than me became a reality, I loved it. It reaffirmed my decision to become a teacher. The relationships I made with my students, my co-workers and parents will forever be blessings to me. The hardest decision I've ever had to make was the decision to leave that job to stay home with Eli.

3. A baby makes 3: finding out I was pregnant. Ben and I decided before we were married that we wanted to wait at least 5 years after tying the knot to expand our family tree. Two months before our 5 year anniversary we discovered we had a little miracle on the way. It was really hard for me to fully accept that we were actually having a baby. We had tried for nearly a year, and I had convinced myself that it wasn't going to happen. And I really regret not enjoying my first few months of pregnancy. I was so consumed with anxiety and fear because I was afraid it was too good to be true, that I missed out on a special time with Ben. During my first trimester, only our immediate families knew (and a lady at the church garage sale who made a dangerous inquiry about my burgeoning belly). I wish I would have reveled in the moment with Ben during this time where only a few people knew. All that aside, though, it was a great pregnancy (apart from a nasty minestrone soup episode and an overwhelming aversion to poultry). The end result was pretty spectacular, as well.

Now, the next two are tied. I couldn't decide which one to place first, because they both pretty much rock my socks off. That is why I don't have a number two (teehee...number two)

1. BENJAMIN BRUCE PARKER: I know he is not an event, but Ben and I started dating when I was almost 21. A staple of my 20s, there really is not a specific event I could choose that would express how much he means to me. So he is the event. Funny story about how Ben and I met. We had a mutual friend who was a senior at SAU when I was a freshman and Ben was a sophomore. I remember she came up to me and said, "I have the perfect guy for you...I know you two will get married. You have to date him immediately." When she told me it was Ben Parker, I was less than convinced. I had met him earlier in the year and thought he was kind of conceited. He, too, was not about it. He thought that my Melissa Etheridge haircut automatically eliminated me as a viable choice. The next year, though, we were both in our school's praise and worship team, we had a few psychology classes together and we started to become good friends. The next year, his friend asked me out for him, we watched an Earnest movie and the rest is history. I cannot imagine life without my perfect partner in crime. He keeps me levelheaded when I am about to have a Meryl Steep moment. He is the world's best father. He makes me laugh like nobody else. And I still get weak in the knees when he kisses me. He is my favorite.

1. ELIJAH STEVEN PARKER: I mean, have you met this kid? I.n.c.r.e.d.i.b.l.e. There are nights when I go into his room after he's fallen asleep and just marvel at his wonderfulness. Also, its easier to do when he's not pulling a Rosemary's Baby. Is being a parent challenging? The most challenging thing I've ever done. Do I envision his future therapy sessions wherein he discovers I am the root of all his problems? You betcha. But I have never known a love like this. I can only imagine that the love a parent has for a child is a small, small glimpse into the love the Father has for us. Elijah is amazing, and I love every second that I have had the privilege of being his mother.

Eli: 2 Years

2011-02-17T13:32:00.000-05:00

I made this for Eli's 2nd birthday. This is the condensed version (if you can believe it). The actual version has video throughout, as well. If you have 12 minutes to kill and are a fan of photo montages, well then prop up your feet, pull out that bag of doritos and enjoy. If, however, if you'd rather have a lobotomy than watch 12 minutes of photos from a toddler's life, then move along.

Carrie, Carrie...Things They Change My Friend*

2011-02-07T00:33:00.000-05:00

Happy Birthday to one my most favorite people in the world!

I got you some ~~embarrassment~~ memories for your birthday.

circa 1989

Even then, her car was without interior lighting.

Sooooo cute.

Boo...baby is not happy. Look how comforting I was to her.

I call this, "Girl (with too much time on her hands) and her dog"

The amazingly awesome Rick sisters

"For there is no friend like a sister, in calm or stormy weather, to cheer one on the tedious way, to fetch one if one goes astray, to lift one if one totters down, to strengthen whilst one stands." -Christina Rossetti

My dearest Carol, you are more amazing to me than you'll ever know. Your tenacity, your grace, your fearlessness, your humor, your style, your compassion, your drive, your friendship...everything about you makes me proud that I am able to call you my sister and best friend. Happy Birthday, lovely!

*This comes from a Europe song. The song is kind of a downer, but how cool that Europe wrote a song about you, right?

Top 10 List -- Episode 2

2011-02-04T16:15:00.000-05:00

Let's just pick up where we left off, shall we?

7. Puerrrto Ricooo, You Lovely Island - Our second year of marriage, Ben was asked/volunteered to take a group of SAU students on a Spring Break missions trip to Puerto Rico. Being the kind man that he is, he asked me to go with him. We worked at a Christian campground run by a family straight from the golden streets of heaven (shout out to the Marshalls!). Ben ended up taking three trips, and I was able to go with him the first two years (the third year, I was doing my student teaching).

(I did end up going a third time with just Ben. We went down for a week during the summer for our own vacation and stayed with the aforementioned saints, the Marshalls.)

Oh.em.gee. Do not listen to Rita Moreno in West Side Story. Puerto Rico should not sink back into the ocean. First, the people we took on our trips are incredible people. There are people from those trips that I hope I will have forever friendships with. Our first trip included 12 women (including myself) and...Ben. It was estrogen overload (you know, in a good way). Honestly, these women had the brute strength of...of...I don't know...a group of manly men, but they smelled like a spring meadow (each one). They worked tirelessly in the Puerto Rican heat using sledgehammers, mixing cement, painting buildings, warding off cockroaches, working with area youth, and just being all-around awesome.

Our second group was equally awesome. This will forever be known at the poo trip, as our group worked on installing a new sewage line while trying to by-pass the old one (which we were not successful at doing...river of poo).

Along with working with incredibly motivated and awesome college students, I feel like this trip helped me and Ben learn how to work together. Obviously we are married and work at our marriage. But these trips allowed us to actually work on a project outside of our marriage together. And, folks, it wasn't easy at times. But, we learned from it. I learned a lot from Ben's leadership style; he is someone who easily garners the respect of others. He is able to lead with a level-head and perspective. I got to see him in a whole new light. I don't know what, if anything, he learned from me. I hope he was able to see how dedicated I was to our teams and how much I loved every person on each trip.

Finally, the people of Puerto Rico are some of the most genuine, giving people I have ever met (also, the male inhabitants were very enthusiastic about the females...just sayin'). I fell in love with the Hispanic culture on this trip. Life goes at a slower pace, which is refreshing.

Our first PR group (minus Ben who was taking the pic)

6. Saying Good-bye. Somber moment ahead, friends.

I wanted this to be a list of memorable moments from my twenties. I feel like the word memorable has a positive connotation. We think of fun and good times. I think, however, I would be remiss if I left out a particularly sad memory from my twenties -- an event that impacted me greatly.

Around Christmas time two years ago, when I was eight months large with Eli, I received a phone call from my parents telling me that my grandma had been in a serious accident. My heart dropped. My parents were unsure if she was going to survive. Two hours later, one of the most influential women in my life left this world for her heavenly home. And I was heartbroken. My grandmother meant so much to me. This woman taught me to swim, let me play dress up with all her fabulous jewelry, taught me the meaning of style. I spent summer vacations with her, cooked with her, laughed with her. She shared in my joys and heartaches. I will never forget the last vacation we spent together and the tears of joy in her eyes when I told her I was pregnant. And she never got to meet one of the most precious people in my life. She was taken too soon. And I was angry...for a long time. I didn't (and still don't) understand. She was so important to me, and she was gone too soon.

I know, though, that she is with her heavenly king, which is far better than anything on this planet. It is a comfort to know that someone I loved and cherished so much is in a place of pure joy. And I can't wait to see her again.

Alright...that was rough.

5. You Can Call Me Mrs. Parker - My decision to go back to school to get my teaching certificate was an easy one. I knew I loved my subject matter, and I loved to ~~boss~~ work with people, so teaching seemed a good fit (obviously those two were not the only reasons I wanted to be a teacher, come on). Honestly, though, I was skirred to death when it came to anticipating my student teaching. I was on someone else's turf, having them watch me (which, by-the-by ups my awkward factor tremendously) working with students who probably viewed me on the same plane as a substitute. Also, I was not too fond of any student teacher I had as a student, so...yeah.
All my worries and fears were eradicated, though, when I met my cooperating teacher. Kim Shore should be nominated for a teacher of the forever award. Her creativity puts Martha Stewart to shame, she understands teens like no one's business, she knows her subject matter, she is level-headed, she has a wicked-rad sense of humor, she is organized. I mean every teenager should have her as a teacher. And she was MY cooperating teacher. Student teaching jackpot, my friends.

Then, there were my students. A.W.E.S.O.M.E. Awesome! There were challenging days, but I could not have asked for a better group of students. Each class I taught made my day.

My student teaching experience will always be remembered as highlight of my life.

The fabulous Mrs. Shore and me

Now, I realize that my math skills are not the best, and I'll actually have to include four events for tomorrow's post. Until then...I bid you adieu.

Thirty, Flirty and Thriving

2011-02-02T23:45:00.000-05:00

If you haven't seen 13 Going on 30, a.) why not? and b.) that's where I got the title for my post. If you have been living in a cave for the last couple months then you may not know that this Friday marks the 30th anniversary of my entrance into this world. Also known as my 20-10 birthday. So, I don't think I'm flirty anymore, or ever was, and the word thriving makes me think of Eli as a young baby. "Is he thriving?" Totally freaked me out when I would read that. I don't know...is he? Dear God, IS HE???!!

Anyway.

I've thought about what sage words I wanted to share with my fan (hey, Rachel). How can I perfectly capture the past decade? I wanted to bid my 20s adieu with some style. And what says style more than (bddddddddddd--that's my drumroll) -- a TOP 10 LIST FROM MY 20s!!! (3 exclamation points totally warranted). I've decided to recap the 10 most memorable moments from the past ten years of my life. Narrowing it down to 10 was tricky...because, let's face it, I'm awesome. But, narrow it I did.

I'm going to post three a day...you know...because...I don't know...stop with the interrogation...geez.

We'll start with 10 and work our way down (not sure why I'm using the pronouns we/our...maybe it's my 30 year old brain losing its way).

10. Broadway Bound: I likes me some musical theater. I have a playlist on my IPod entitled: Broadway Beats. Also, I love to sing dramatically, which I know may shock you because I am not a very dramatic person (somewhere my mother is rolling her eyes). I am totally an eyes-closed singer, which makes singing while I drive an interesting adventure. In my early twenties I got to be a part of two amazing musical theater productions: The Mikado and Into the Woods.
The Mikado was my first (and, sadly, only) foray into community theater. My super awesome, super flamboyant voice instructor got me to audition, and I am so glad he did. I got to meet and work with some very talented, very gracious, very awesome people. Also, the name of my character: Yum-Yum. Oh, and I played a Geisha. Oh, Gilber and Sullivan...you crazy guys.
Into the Woods was put on by Spring Arbor University and directed by my very awesome, very flamboyant voice instructor. There's something about being part of a theater ensemble. You bond very quickly with people you may have otherwise never developed friendships. Everyone in that cast was incredible, and, to pepper some Swayze on this, I had the time of my life.

9. From Lowell with Love: My most cherished college memories include some of the most incredible women I will ever know. I lived in Lowell Hall my first three years of college and then a house my senior year with these incredible women. I knew I could count on these girls for anything. They saw me at my worst (and believe me, I was pretty self-absorbed in college. Not like now...writing on my blog...about me. *cough*cough*) and experienced my best with me. Since college, we've all scattered (not me so much, but everyone else). I think about them often.

8. London Calling: The summer between my junior and senior year I had the opportunity to travel to the UK. For a literary nerd like myself, visiting the stomping grounds of some of my favorites was sublime: Austen, Shakespeare, Tolkien, Dickens, Byron, Rowling (no, I am not comparing JK Rowling with Tolkien, but have you read Harry Potter? Come on.) Also, I got to travel with one of my best friends from college and hilarity abounded. Cristin and I were very different in our approach to travel. She was very organized, I was very not. She studied maps for our next day's adventures meticulously every night, I watched trashy British television. She looked fabulous after five hour train rides, I looked like a hot mess. It was a little tense sometimes, but it was hilarious the whole time. It was the most incredible trip, even if I didn't get to see Nessie.

At London Tower

Here's a preview for tomorrow: Puerrrto Rrrrrico, I believe the children are our future aaaannnd...

We Didn't Start the Fire...

2011-01-25T21:18:00.001-05:00

I would say that last week made for interesting blog fodder. I was asked to leave a building, I had a life size Edward Cullen cutout in my apartment for a few hours (sweet bliss), I enjoyed my first massage (heavenly bliss), and (drum roll please) I set the fire alarm off in our building. This post will be dedicated to the last item on the list.

Eli is in love with pancakes, so I have been making them every morning for the last couple weeks. Let's be honest, I am in love with pancakes, too. And syrup. Delicious, pancreas destroying syrup. Mmmmmm....syrup. What? Oh yeah...this post. Aaaanyway, I decided to make some sausage with our pancakes last Friday.

So, cooking the pancakes, cooking the sausage. Feeling so proud of my domesticity. And then my pride was all, "dude, I'm here now, but guess what's coming next?" I lifted the lid to the cooking sausage to discover they were starting to burn. No problem, just take them off the heat...and we'll be okaBEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Our smoke detector went off. No problem. Except that our smoke detector tripped the building's fire alarm. The BUILDING! The alarm was going off in the whole building. The dorm building that houses 200+ slumbering college students. The fire alarm was going off at 8:30 in the morning, which is like 5:00 a.m. to college students, right? Oh, and it's mid-January, so the weather outside was slightly frightful.

So Ben goes out and tries to get the alarm to shut off, but the smoke detector in our apartment was still detecting smoke, so he couldn't. I should also mention that someone thought it would be a great idea to put a smoke detector two feet away from our stove. What the what?

Students, mid-REM sleep, are groggily filing out of the building into the blustery morning air (many of them wearing shorts), cursing me with their eyes. At least that's how I felt. In reality, though, nobody, aside from Ben, Eli and...THE POLICE CHIEF who was the first to respond to the alarm, knew it was because of me. That's right...THE POLICE CHIEF. Because friends, when an alarm goes off in a dorm building, the fire department is immediately notified.

Oh, also, I'm in my pajamas with my sleepy face on. It's really pretty. You may have seen it when you passed gross road kill that one time...gross road kill and my morning face bear an uncanny resemblance. Oh, and Eli is freaking out because something is making an ear-wrenching sound and it isn't him.

So then...the FIRE TRUCK PULLS UP! So...to recap: students filing out of building at 8:30 a.m., police chief on scene, three maintenance guys on scene, sleepy road kill face on display, ear-splitting alarm going off, toddler terrified, fire truck on scene.

Luckily, Ben is on the fire department, so they all know us and thought it was funny. Not haha funny, but your wife can't cook funny. They just kind of laughed it off, the alarm was reset, students grumbled back into the building, and the burnt sausage was tossed in the trash. Ben was super awesome about the whole thing. However, I'm not expecting any friend requests from the residents in our building.

Elijah Parker: The Piccolo Pete of South Central Michigan - 23 Months

2011-01-24T16:29:00.000-05:00

This month, my lovely, has been loud, frustrating, embarrassing and wonderful. We've been asked to leave an academic building, you learned to ~~base jump~~ climb out of your crib and split your lip open in the process, the stomach flu hit you with its best shot, you experienced your second Christmas and, on the diabetic front, you discovered M & Ms.

Let's start with being asked to leave the academic building. This past month you've developed this habit wherein you scream when you don't get your way and/or are hungry. Now, I've mentioned that you scream in previous updates, but nothing compares to the unabashed sound you now make. I've started referring to you as my piccolo pete. For those of you unfamiliar with this ear-wrenching product, I've copied the urban dictionary definition:

A small tube firework that emits a loud, piercing screech for about 30 seconds. Very loud and annoying. Can be used to make homemade fireworks.

My friend, it is the.MOST.annoying sound in the universe. It sounds as if I am removing one of your vital organs without the aid of anesthesia. Also, it's really embarrassing. I know you know it's embarrassing. You look at me with this knowing look right before you do it...much like the look I'll give you right before I do the worm at your senior prom. When we're at home, you have to sit in your time out chair for two minutes when you do it. We'll come to get you, you say "sawwey, mama" (sorry, mama), you come out to play, you make the same sound 5 minutes later, you go back in your chair. It's a dance we have mastered beautifully. When we're out and about, though, I sadly cannot bring the time out chair with me. And you know it.

The other night we were at a restaurant, and you just kept screaming (due to hunger) and you wouldn't stop. I took you out of the restaurant a few times to talk you off your ledge, but you would come right back in and scream. I overheard a teenager telling you to shut-up. When she saw that I heard her say it, she averted her eyes in shame...that's right, girly...avert those eyes. No one tells my kid to shut-up even if it is warranted!! Got it?! I digress. Once an angel from the lord delivered our food, and you inhaled three pieces of pizza, you were fine.

THEN. Last week, our friend Sara was taking your two year old pictures. I decided we might get some good pics in the Pohling Center, which is an academic building on campus at SAU. You were pretty well behaved at the beginning. We were in the stairwell, taking some shots of you playing with your trains and climbing up and down the stairs. You would make the occasional yelps of merriment with a sporadic frustrated screech. Students were out and about taking a break from classes. Life was beautiful. And then...darkness descended. You were done taking pictures, and you decided to let us and the whole building know with a rendition of some death metal song. Sara helped me get you down from the stairs, and we prepared to leave while you were screeching. And then, my parent-of-the-year award was delivered by a trying-to-be-as-nice-as-possible-even-though-he-was-clearly-frustrated professor who told us we were disrupting classes and could we please leave. A.w.e.s.o.m.e. Before you, dear reader, point your duh finger at me, let me just say, I know my child was being disruptive, which is why we were trying to leave...okay? Also, he's two...so just...you know...go tell your mom.

So, there's that.

In other awesome news, you learned to climb out of your crib. The first night was after an aftershock throw up. A few nights earlier, you were horribly sick, throwing up every 15 minutes for several hours. It was torture to watch you feel so miserable. It was a 24 hour thing, and you were very soon back to your normal self. A few days later, I think we overdid it with the food and you threw up again. It was just once. But, I decided to sleep in your room on the air mattress just in case you did it again. Big mistake. While I was trying to fall asleep, you were going through your word repertoire, firing out every word you knew...you know, to impress me. Then, when I turned my back to you, you landed on me pile-driver style. It was the first time you had successfully climbed out of your crib. Needless to say, you were delighted.

Fast forward to a few nights later to a lapse in my parental judgment. Grandma and Grandpa Parker were staying over, which delighted you to your very core, and then, here comes the lapse, I gave you a cupcake at 8:00...AT NIGHT. So, the fact that gma and gpa were over compounded with the overdose of sugar made bed time super fun. Twenty minutes after we put you down, you came walking down the hall like it was normal. "Hey everybody, whatcha you doing? Watching a movie? That's cool. Can I have some popcorn? No?" At least that's what you would have said if you had my inner-monologue going on. We put you back in, you got back out. We let you try to fall asleep with us...you thought it was time to party. We put you back in your crib, you began to scream. We heard a horrible thump...louder screaming. I rushed in and found you on the floor with a split lip and bruised face. So, we tried the toddler bed for .0087 seconds until we realized we'd rather be forced to watch Glitter. Your father, in his infinite wisdom, decided to buy us some time and turned your crib around (you know, because the back is higher than the front). Which seems to be working....for now.

(Parenting Lapse Exhibit A)

Aside from the screaming, though, you grow more and more wonderful every second. You love to help out around the house. Every time I unload the dishwasher, you're there to help...and we've only broken one dish in the process. You'll push the vacuum for me, throw things away, help me load the washing machine. You're the most adorable personal assistant.

(helping dad)

It's important to stay hydrated.

You are not stingy with the kisses and hugs either. Last week, we met Aunt Carrie for dinner. When you saw her waiting for us, you screamed "Ca-wie!!" When we started to get ready to leave, you kept giving her kisses and hugs. It made me want to stop time. You love when your Auntie Em comes to visit. Whenever I say to you, "Guess who's coming over today?" you shout "Emimmy!!!" (Emily) You love your grandparents. The other day we were in downtown Jackson and you kept shouting, "Papa! Papa! Papa!" (grandpa). So we stopped by at his work to say hi. You were in heaven. There's nothing more thrilling for you than a trip to see gaga and papa (both mine and your dad's parents). Usually, you are laughing, dancing, telling a good joke. You definitely love life.

Dancin' it up with your New Year's Dates

It's wonderful to know that there are so many people that care for and love you. You will never want for love and affection. What a blessing that you get to grow up in a world like that. What a blessing to know that there are Godly people in your life who want nothing but the best for you. I am humbled by so much love. And I am humbled by you, my sweet boy. My heart is full.

Mister Independent - Eli at 22 Months

2010-12-14T22:58:00.000-05:00

Yesterday, you, grandma and I ventured over snow covered roads to a magical place called Ann Arbor. Now, I took my chances with this trip because I knew you would be foregoing your daily nap. A risky wager, my friend. Usually when you don't get your nap...well, people die...they just stop living. But I like to live on the edge, so away we went.

Usually when we shop, you're fine for the first 20 minutes or so. About 20 minutes in, though, you have some sort of epileptic fit for which the only cure is going home or a box of cookies (which I never give you...I mean who would do that...cough, cough...stop looking at me like that). And that's just grocery shopping. When we go to the mall, it's like I'm taking you to get a lobotomy. You.hate.it. So, I was a little wary to take you out on the coldest day of man's existence, during lunch time, knowing you would miss your nap and you would be in a mall. However, this time I had my mom to run interference, I packed enough snacks to keep your sugar levels at satisfactory levels, I brought your cars (a necessary item any time we leave the house now), along with a partridge in a pear tree.

My dear Elijah, you were an angel. There were a couple times here and there where we would go in a direction you didn't want to go, and you simply just lay down to show your protest. You didn't throw yourself down or pound your fists and kick when you lay down. You didn't even scream. You would just lie down and say very matter-of-factly, "no". It seemed as if you were taking a little rest on the I-don't-even-want-to-think-how-disgusting floor of Briarwood. And it was pretty easy to lure you away from your awake nap. It usually just took showing you your me-me (pacifier in Eli) or one of your trucks.

It.was.awesome. Thank you.

As with any other month, you never cease to surprise and shatter my expectations. Month 22 has been one in which your verbal skills have taken off. You communicate so much more clearly, you mimic lines from Toy Story (the only thing you want to watch except for an occasional Thomas video), you ask to go see people (like daddy's friend Jacob or your friend Ben or Gaga and Gampa). And it all seemed to happen overnight.

You've got a little something on your face there.

(juice break with your bestie, Ben)

You definitely like things done a certain way, too. You have to have every stuffed animal you own in your crib with you while you sleep. It's quite the stuffed menagerie. Elmo must accompany you whenever we leave the house. You line up your cars a certain way, and if I try to mess with the system you shoot fire from your eyes. Your grandpa watched you this past Saturday morning. And as your typical procedure requires, he made you your oatmeal and gave it to you complete with your standard five spoons. A little after he gave it to you, he thought it still might be a little too warm, so he added some milk. And then all the puppies in the world died. You were shocked. Dismayed. How could he have done that?! What's next? Grape jelly instead of your standard strawberry? Disgusted at this departure from normalcy, you refused to eat any more of the obviously ruined oatmeal.

It's so interesting to see you exerting your independence in such a way. There is a way you like things done and it doesn't always go along with how your father and I do things (sometimes this is more exasperating than endearing). I love that you feel secure enough to be independent. You still cling to my leg (which I secretly love) in unfamiliar situations or when animals attack, but usually you like to leave my side to explore and figure things out for yourself. I hope you always have this security. I hope you know that no matter how far away you go, your father and I will always be here when you come back. (Side note: I mostly mean this figuratively. You're really not allowed to leave my sight when we're out in public.)

Falling Behind in the Radvent

2010-12-08T22:50:00.000-05:00

So I meant to do this yesterday, but then...I didn't. I, like my friend Rachel, l-o-v-e creating play lists. Even more, I like relating things to my life. Combine the two, and we have narcissistic bliss. So, I'm going to go month by month.

Radvent Day 4: Rocking Out

Write down the soundtrack of your year so far. Play it for someone who loves you.

January: "I Still Care for You" - Ray LaMontagne
If "they" ever wrote a love story about me and Ben and then adapted the story for screen, this is the song that would play when they did a montage of our sweetest moments.

February: "In a Tree" - Priscilla Ahn
I chose this song for a photo montage of Eli's first year. I love that it has a playful innocence to it. It was the perfect fit for a collection of pictures detailing the first year of one of the most playful people I know.

March: "Us" - Regina Spektor
I don't think I listened to any other song on my Ipod for days after buying this song. I couldn't believe that I didn't already know about it prior to 2010. It's such a whimsical song. I love her.

April: Three-Way Tie
"I Already Know" - Mandy Mapes
Thank you, Rachel Parton for suggesting this song. April was a tough month, and this song was a comfortable reminder of God's unrelenting grace and protection.

"Your Hands" - JJ Heller
Another great one during Awful April (the official name of April 2010). Favorite lyrics, "When my world is shaking, Heaven stands. When my heart is breaking, I never leave Your hands."

"...And As the Ship Went Down" - Woodpigeon
This song is orchestral perfection. I love the vocals, I love the instrumentation, I love everything about it. It was on repeat a lot. And I actually think I did something to the speakers in my car b/c I blasted this (when Eli wasn't in the car, of course...cough...cough).

May: (don't laugh) "Sweet Dreams" -Beyonce
I started running outside in May, because that's when it was warm enough for me to run outside without getting that blood taste in the back of my throat thanks to frigid temps. What? That doesn't happen to you? Me neither. Aaaanyway. This song was my first song during my runs. EVERY.TIME. It's actually not a really good running song, but it got me on the road.

June: "Rebellion (Lies)" - Arcade Fire
This was another running song which became an Eli/Mama dance party song. Fun song. My hope is to see Arcade Fire in concert before I get so old that people think I'm there to drop off my teenage kid.

July: "Curs in the Weeds" - Horse Feathers
Great lazy summer day song. If I had a front porch and lived in Montana during the summer, this song would constantly play. I don't, though, so it played in my Element on repeat.

August: "Don't Rain on my Parade" - Barbara Streisand
I went through a Babs revival in August. I simply adore her and wish we could be friends. But she's pretty liberal and we'd probably get in arguments. If I ever win a karaoke contest, it will be to this song.

September: "Beg, Steal or Borrow" - Ray LaMontagne
This is off his latest c.d. It definitely has a country twang to it, but I am still in love with it, as September can atest.

October: "Go Do" - Jonsi
Musical nirvana. That's it. I love this whole album and "Tornado" was a very close second. Go buy this c.d. right now (unless you don't want to...it's cool).

November: "Dog Days are Over" - Florence + The Machine
This is a good dance party song. You can't help but smile when you listen to it...which is great during stressful holiday times...like when a woman yells at you on Black Friday at Target...just as a random example.

December: "O Holy Night" - Sufjan Stevens
One of my favorite Christmas songs sung by one of my favorite artists -- it's beautiful.

Once Again, Stealing from Rachel

2010-12-05T23:33:00.002-05:00

I found this on Rachel's blog, who I think got it from someone else's blog. Anyway, I love the idea of (r)advent blog posts. So, I'll give this one a try.

Radvent Day 4: Forgiveness

Practice forgiving about small, everyday things. Who and what are you ready to let go of resentment toward?

I have actually written four apology letters to people I once knew. I have yet to send them out, because I haven't built up the courage. I know that these people deserve my apologies. And honestly, I'm not really expecting forgiveness, but I want them to know that I am aware I treated them poorly and am deeply sorry. I'll send them someday. In this same vein, I feel that I need to forgive myself of so many things.

Additionally, there are far more people who deserve an apology from me than there are people who need my forgiveness...FAR MORE!

That being said, this post requires that I forgive. So, I'm not going to be completely forthcoming, because this is the Internet and you don't need to be all up in my bi'ness, Internet (she writes fully aware of the irony that she has a blog). Some of these are serious, and some of them...not so much.

I forgive the sister of my childhood babysitter who I would overhear talking about how annoying I was.
I forgive myself for periodic lapses in judgment in my life.
I forgive that girl in middle school who said I looked like a small dog.
I forgive that guy in high school who incessantly made fun of me because of my stupid haircut.
I forgive the writers of Friends who let me down in Season 10.
I forgive my high school history teacher for showing North and South instead of teaching us history.
I forgive Netflix for suggesting Confessions of a Shopaholic to me.
I forgive Ann Curry for being so annoying to watch.
I forgive the unfriendly people in my church youth group.
I forgive the principal who told me I had a job at his school and then didn't give me a second interview (I also forgive myself for blowing the first interview).
I forgive that girl in college who made me feel horrible for something I didn't do.
I forgive those people who can't seem to get my name right.
I forgive the professor who gave me my first F on a test.
I forgive the three cavities in my mouth that have made it impossible for me to enjoy Grape Nuts.
I forgive the student who made me question why I wanted to be a teacher.
I forgive that student who told me I looked old and had a lot of wrinkles.

This next one is the hardest and the one I've wrestled with the most.

I forgive the woman who took my grandmother away from me.

Sorry to lay that heavy one on you last. So to break the tension...here's an added one:

I forgive NBC for Passions.

Formal-Wear Pajamas

2010-12-01T14:35:00.000-05:00

Yesterday morning I walked into Eli's room and found that he had modified his pajamas. His fashion line should be hitting stores this spring.

(In case you were wondering, the pajama shirt comes equipped with two sleeves.

He went to bed with both sleeves on.)

Punctuation Lesson

2010-11-30T14:16:00.000-05:00

A few days ago, my friend Sara was over, and she and I were bemoaning the fact that people don't know how to properly use an apostrophe. And by bemoaning, I mean making fun of people. Sara runs a wicked-spectacular Etsy card shop (you can find it here - you're welcome) wherein she designs cards that people can purchase to suit their own special occasions. Anyway, people will send her what they want their card to read. And, oh the stories she has. Our conversation was limited to improper usage of apostrophes, so this post will be limited specifically to that. Now, friends this is a huge pet peeve of mine. Almost as big as when people say 'I seen it." What?! WHAT?! Or when people say 'acrossTTTT". What?! Please show me where the 't' is in across. It's not there, people.

(Breathe in...breathe out)

I digress.

So, I'm going to give you a few examples of incorrect apostrophe usage followed by the correct way. Does this seem pedantic? You bet it does. And you're welcome.

Incorrect:
Merry Christmas! Love, The Parker's

There are two reasons this is wrong: 1.) There's probably more than one Parker, which means you should put the apostrophe after the s and 2.) You are not showing ownership. Perhaps if you were to write Love, The Parkers' dog, you would be correct

Correct:
Merry Christmas! Love, The Parkers

or

Merry Christmas! Love, The Parker Family

Incorrect:
I love the 80's.

Correct:
Nope. You love the 80s.

or

You love the eighties.

Incorrect:
I just bought a 92 Chrysler LeBaron. It was Jon Voights' car.

Correct:
I just bought a '92 Chrysler LeBaron. It was Jon Voight's car.

(Bonus points if you can name the tv show I got this from ... or from which I got this.)

Incorrect:
I received all A's on my report card.

Except in English...

Correct:
I received all As on my report cards. Does it look like a bad word...yes. But plural nouns do not need an apostrophe (like houses, boxes).

**The only, ONLY time you would need an apostrophe between a letter or number and s is if the meaning is unclear...use SPARINGLY.

Incorrect:
I have three 5's in my cell number.

Correct:
I have three 5s in my cell number.

(**See note above)

Incorrect:
I just gave my two week's notice.

Correct:
I just gave my two weeks' notice.

Okay, just a small lesson, but a needed one. Now go out there and punctuate correctly.

Black (Like Your Soul) Friday

2010-11-26T14:20:00.000-05:00

I woke up at 4:30 a.m. today.

I drove to Target.

I put items in my cart that seemed like a great deal, but will (let's be honest) still be there at 10:00 a.m.

I got in an argument with a lady in line at Target (that's when I really think I showed people Christ).

I went out in public with my sleepy/4 hours of sleep face (it's the exact same as my "I just got punched in the face with poison ivy" face).

I had a completely insanely fun time with my sister. I've never laughed that much at 6:30 in the morning.

...

And to top it all off, I came home, gave Eli a bath and he pooped in the tub.

Sorry Mr. Chapin, No Cat's in the Cradle in This House: Eli 21 Months

2010-11-18T15:19:00.003-05:00

I'd like to begin this post by saying you're my favorite person and showing the following picture:

What is it, you ask? It's your breakfast. And although it looks like vomit, it is actually oatmeal. The telling thing(s) in this picture are (is) the four spoons and one fork. This picture so perfectly captures you over the past month. You insisted that you have four spoons (or spoooooo -- spoon in Eli) and a fork to eat this meal. You like things done your way, and if they are not done your way in 5 seconds you will cause the earth to collapse in on itself with a single bloodcurdling scream.

You are strong willed, kid. When I was in labor with you, you turned at the last minute. The doctor kept trying to turn you the right way, but you were insistent on staying sideways. I remember hearing the doctor say, "we got a stubborn one here." And as I was cursing Eve, I thought "awesome." When you don't get your way, you throw the nearest thing you can grab and look me in the eye and scream. Not a long scream. A short, Mariah-Carey-circa-Emotions-album scream. It's your equivalent to stomping your foot. This past week you were sick with a cold as well as suffering from two-year molar pain. My friend, it was like living with Aretha Franklin after a particularly infuriating VH1's Divas special. You were angry with life.

(yes, yes you are eating marshmallows straight from the bag...after crying for 20 minutes straight...I went with it.)

I don't want you to think life with you this past month has reduced me to an unhappy, Xanax dependent mom. I love every minute with you. You're just catching me at the end of a week where, at one point, we were both crying because we didn't know what you wanted. Actually, you're quite the little charmer. I was talking with a friend the other day telling her how more people on campus know you than me. You love to play out in the lounge area of our building and greet people as they walk in. You're like the host at a restaurant. Guys will walk in and give you high fives and fist bumps; it's completely melt-your-heart adorable. I feel like a majority of the guys in our building would step in front of a bus for you.

In other awesome news, you have started asking to go potty. Now, I'm the kind of person who puts off challenging tasks until the last minute. So, honestly I was expecting to give you a crash course in potty training prior to your first date. But, one day you pointed to the toilet and said "tinka" (Eli for tinkle"). I put you on it, and you went "tinka." I.was.amazed. And then you did it again and another time. It's not a consistent thing and you haven't dropped a deuce yet, but yowza, kid, you are incredible. You amaze me every day with things you do or say.

Also, you're the funniest kid I know...funnier than Rudy Huxtable (the early years...don't get me started on Rudy during the desperate Olivia episodes). In about ten years, what I'm about to write will have you requesting change of name forms and a PPO against me, but you, my friend, have inherited your mother's gastrointestinal tendencies. Which is a fancy way of saying you fart and burp a lot. Now before any of my readers start suggesting vegan, non-dairy diet plans, relax. The Ricks and the Parkers are gassy people, so it only makes sense that my child would also be a gassy person. The great thing about it, is that you think it's hilarious when you fart or burp. I've even caught you lifting a butt cheek to get full push. You will say 'xcuse you' (which is what we say to you when you do it) and give the nearest person a high five. It.is.AWEsome. If you're gonna survive in this family, you have to think gas is funny.

Speaking of funny people, you have become the president of your father's fan club this past month. Now, I'm going to admit something that will earn me top billing as the most horrible person on this planet next to Rosie O'Donnell, but this was hard for me. Up until a couple months ago, you were the president of my fan club. I was your go-to-gal. Now, though, it's your papa. I was walking behind you and your dad (walking hand in hand) at Target the other night and thought, "Wow, what am I being a dork for? I am so blessed to be married to a man who is an amazing father." Your father loves you more than anything, more than the Detroit Tigers or Oreos. You're his little man, and I am brought to tears when I think about how blessed you are to have such an amazing role model. I worry about you and the world you're growing up in (a world where dangling prepositions run rampant). But I feel a peace knowing that you have a Godly father who will help you become an equally amazing man of God. I love that my favorites are each other's favorites.

Despite our differences these past couple months, you're still one of my favorite people to be around. I hope you never doubt my unconditional love for you. There is nothing you could do that would make me love you any less. Not even if you voted democrat.

Fifteen Authors

2010-11-11T23:35:00.000-05:00

I was tagged in a note on Facebook by my brother in which I was challenged to name fifteen authors (poets included) who've influenced me and that will always stick with me. I'm supposed to identify fifteen authors in fifteen minutes.

Challenge extended....challenge accepted.

The Holy Spirit

C.S. Lewis
Dorothy Sayers
Harper Lee
Jane Austen
John Donne
J.R.R. Tolkien
Mark Twain (that's right, Julia)
Beverly Cleary
John Steinbeck
Charles Dickens
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
William Shakespeare
Frank McCourt
Jim Fay

Laughter is the Best Medicine

2010-11-10T16:44:00.001-05:00

Eli is just starting to laugh at things he sees on t.v. In this video he's laughing at Murray from Sesame Street demonstrating "half" by ripping a chair in half. He's laughing so hard he gets the hiccups. I would compare his laugh...ummm...to an angels' chorus.

Eli and Sesame Street from Jeanette Parker on Vimeo.

The Parkers

2010-11-08T14:54:00.000-05:00

Ben: Go like this...you have something on your chin.

Me: Did I get it?

Ben: No, it looks like spaghetti sauce or something.

Me: It's a zit.

Ben: Oh.

(I must post script this by saying that I have been emphatic with Ben about telling me when I have something on my face or chin. This, however, was not easily removed...even the lapse of puberty has not worked).

Guest Starring Matt Lauer

2010-11-07T20:54:00.000-05:00

Last night played host to the weirdest dreams I can recall in a while. I can't think of anything weird I ate or any illicit drugs I consumed to beget such random, Inception style dreams. I wrote down the weirdest one out of the bunch just because it was so funny at star-studded. That's right, I wrote it down. To share with you. So here is my warped dream:

I was interning at News 10 (you know, home of Darrin ROCK-c.o.l.e.), and I was working with the production team. During a newscast, I was standing next to the cameraman when he suddenly fainted. David Andrews told me to get my act in gear and run the camera. Not wanting to disappoint such an acclaimed newscaster, I quickly got behind the camera...except it was too heavy and so it kept dropping down or going off to the side. All of the sudden Matt Lauer was reporting alongside David Andrews, as was Rachel McAdams. They were all yelling at me to follow them with the camera because A.C. Slater was saving someone from the ocean outside the studio (not Mario Lopez, A.C. Slater). I was running, but I couldn't keep up because the camera was too heavy. We got outside (at the beach) just as A.C. and Kelly Kapowski were running into the waves. But then we were all talking outside of the studio (no more Saved By the Bell cameos). Matt Lauer was trying to give me a pep talk about working with the camera and that tomorrow would be better. Then, Sue Sylvester (the producer of News 10) came out to yell at me for screwing up the news.

The end.

First Master's Class: Done

2010-11-06T21:51:00.001-04:00

I am currently enrolled in Spring Arbor's MAE program. Did you know that, Mom? One of my three goals this year was to start my master's. Check. (What are my other two goals? I guess you'll have to come back and see...that's called a hook.) Anyway, why did I choose Spring Arbor to get my master's? Well, the reasons are two-fold:

1. I feel Spring Arbor has grown into a well-reputed school for degrees in education. I did research on MAE programs at various state schools, and decided SAU could hold a candle to other schools. (Eastern also has a great graduate program, as does Michigan State.)

2. I get a significant discount on master's classes at SAU since my husband has been an employee here for so long.

The later had significantly more pull than the former.

So, my first class was actually a workshop that met every other weekend for the last two months. The class covered a program based on Howard Gardner's multiple intelligences theory.

And.it.was.AWESOME.

Now, I admit I'm a bit of a school geek. I likes me some education. So, I was pretty pumped to start classes again. There were thirteen people in my class which made it so much more accessible and comfortable. And the group I was placed in was made up of three other secondary teachers. A huge bonus. (Don't get me wrong, elementary teachers, but we know there is something to be said for homogeneous teacher groups...secondary teachers are a different breed from elementary teachers. We find words like 'duty' funny.) So, yeah the group I was in...was...AWESOME.

We all clicked phenomenally well. I was able to glean a lot of useful tips and suggestions from these three amazing women and laugh my buttocks off every class meeting. These women have such generous spirits and a genuine love for their jobs. Additionally, we all shared very similar beliefs about our classrooms and our role as teachers.

My instructor was equally awesome (third awesome in this post, must buy a thesaurus). She was very knowledgeable about the content, engaging, open to different ideas, and fun. Also, she indulged us when we would giggle at the word 'duty'.

It was a great class, and it has set the bar pretty high as far as my expectations are concerned for future classes. So, come on Spring Arbor, wow the socks off of me. Challenge extended.

Jeanette: 411

2010-11-05T21:34:00.001-04:00

Lately I've been...

Excited About: Going to bed. I only got 5 hours of sleep last night which equals no sleep to those of you who only need 5 hours of sleep, ~~weirdos~~ you interesting people.

Not Looking Forward To: Doing the dishes before I go to bed.

Procrastinating: Doing the laundry...which is slowly building itself into a living-entity

Thinking: I might not do the dishes tonight.

Reading: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows (Nov. 19, suckas). In related news, I just finished Pillars of the Earth -- when I finished, I wanted to start over and read again

~~Cooking~~ Eating: Cottage Inn Personal Pizza...sweet bliss

Watching: TiVoed Modern Family

TiVoing: How I Met Your Mother - I'm currently obsessed. Oh, Doogie.

Listening To: Jonsi

Missing: my sister (Carol T. Rick)

Laughing With: Modern Family - "I found a place online that would buy my organ. Can you drive me to the black market?"

Wishing: I could go to Hawaii with my in-laws in two weeks...so jealous.

Dreading: Sitting through seven hours of class tomorrow (thank goodness for fun people in class)

Will Start: Running again...starting Monday.

Intervention Needed

2010-11-03T20:33:00.000-04:00

The signs of a serious problem:

When one just isn't giving you the fix you need.

"What? I do not have a problem."

Verbal Confusion

2010-11-02T22:07:00.000-04:00

I'm trying to do that thing wherein I post daily on my blog...at least for the month of November. I gotta tell you...the pressure is exhilarating. So here's my post for today. You're welcome, Internet.

Stuff I'm Bad At (this list definitely exceeds 2 items, but for the sake of time and Internet space, I will highlight 2 of them...actually, just one):

1. Not ending phrases with dangling prepositions

2. (And definitely, the broader subject of this post) Small Talk

I am irreparably awkward. I have been all my life. I have little to zero kinesthetic ability. One of my worst fears is that I will be with a group of people and an impromptu volleyball game will break out. My awkwardness is not limited to my lack of athleticism. From ages 5 - pregnant, I bore a striking resemblance to Olive Oil. I was this awkward skinny girl who looked like she suffered from Marfan syndrome (look it up...Abe Lincoln was most likely suffering from it, too). It wasn't cute skinny...it was dear-God-her-knee-caps-stick-out-farther-than-her-well...they just are really pronounced.

But the area in which my awkwardness is ironically evident is my verbal skills. The irony being, I am an English teacher. To quote Jocie-grossy, words are my life. But, when I first meet people or have to engage in small talk, I am reduced to a babbling weirdo with a speech impediment. For example, the other day a guy in Ben's dorm asked how Eli was doing. I was caught of guard, and quickly spit out a hodge podge of words that only the most gifted interpreters could have deciphered. It sounded something like, "Fine...he's good...I mean well...he's f...flabaalkd;fha dvlkamn." (and yes, the semi-colon belongs). The guy looked at me like, "Are you having a seizure?" and then quickly walked away. I don't know why.

Most times, my awkward small talk results in a confused blend of phonemes. However, there are times when I try to throw funny in with my awkwardness and it results in something completely inappropriate being said. This usually happens around pastors or employers. It's what the mean girls refer to as "word vomit." Usually something about farts, menstrual stuff or boobs comes out (ask me about my first time visiting Ben's parents--yikes). These completely inappropriate words are coming out of my mouth while my brain is screaming at me to STOP TALKING, FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY!!!

Sometimes I realize my social faux pas immediately -- other times I realize it as I'm leaving the person or while falling asleep at night. I don't think I'm a dumb person. I mean there was that time I cut my hair to resemble a man. Oh, and I dabbled in missionary dating in high school. But, other than those isolated incidences, I am a fully functioning member of society. Why can I not have an intelligent small talk interaction with someone?

So, if you are ever the victim of my word vomit or phonemic firework show, please know I am aware of my awkwardness and am working to correct it...at least the verbal part. Volleyball is forever beyond my reach.

This is Halloween

2010-11-01T00:25:00.000-04:00

This was our first Halloween trick or treating. Now before you report us to the American Dental Council and Diabetes Association...we don't give him all the candy. Just a couple of little things...with no dye...which are organic...made by angels. We took him to Concord (where my parents live) and went to a few houses on main street. It was really a lesson in saying thank you and good bye. He passed with flying colors.

Anyway, Eli dressed up as a hamburger (sorry, PETA) and I dressed up as Wendy from Wendy's...get it Wendy and her hamburger. Ben dressed up as a guy who doesn't want to dress up or an avid Detroit fan...take your pick. All in all, we had a great night. And I'm topping it off by eating m & m's and watching Harry Potter (19 days, friends...19 days).

Memory

2010-10-18T14:47:00.001-04:00

I found this poem today in an anthology of poems I didn't know I had (and with which I am currently obsessed). It nicely sums up my adoration for fall. So, for your reading pleasure (mom), here it is:

Memory

Out of my dooryard maple

A gilded leaflet fell,

Twinkling down on a sunbeam,

Like music from a bell.

Nor hand nor foot disturbed it,

And frolicsome gusts of air,

Whirling the wayside atoms,

Danced on, and left it there.

Slowly away it wasted

Till only a film remained --

A skeleton leaf, a shadow,

Lost wholly when it rained.

Yet lo, on the stained foot-way,

Etched where the gold had lain,

A delicate shape -- a spirit --

Tarried in wind and rain.

-Charles H. Luders

You're welcome.

Herzlichen Gluckwunsch der bruder

2010-10-04T14:05:00.003-04:00

The title of my post today is in honor of my German ancestry, and it's a shout out to one of my favorite people (and fellow German): my brother! It actually says Happy Birthday the brother. I tried looking up how to say Happy Birthday in Klingon, but I couldn't find it. Aaaanway...Happy Birthday to the smartest person I know. I hope you have a great day! Love you!

Fall Playlist

2010-09-28T14:21:00.000-04:00

Posting what I'm listening to may at first strike you as self-absorbed, and perhaps you would be right. But, my intentions are purely altruistic, which is 60% true every time. That being said, I do like to post what I'm listening to every once in a decade for several reasons:

1. I have written down proof for my future teenage child that his mother actually listened to somewhat cool music (those of you who think my music is not cool can go tell your mom).

2. Perhaps it will inspire you to add new melodies to your library (and by you, I mean my sister).

3. I like to look back at previous posted playlists and reminisce.

4. I enjoy reading your playlists (and by your, I mean Rachel -- who is not self-absorbed at all--little disclaimer there).

The following are songs are from my "Fall Playlist". And yes I do have seasonal playlists. I feel each season warrants its own music.

1. Go Do - Jonsi : for those of you who like Sigur Ros, you will love Jonsi...because it is the lead singer of Sigur Ros. It is an upbeat, ethereal tune.

2. Tornado - Jonsi: for those who like the slow jams...this is a more somber selection...still musical bliss, though.

3. Staralfur - Sigur Ros - Listening to Jonsi compelled me to visit one of my Sigur Ros favorites. If you're not into Icelandic music...move along.

4. Concerning the UFO Sighting... - Sufjan Stevens - Every playlist I create will have a song from this eclectic musician. The Illinois album is my favorite, and this song (off said album) epitomizes fall for me.

5. ...And As The Ship Went Down...-Woodpigeon - This band reminds me of my good friend, Sufjan. The sound is very eclectic. Bonus: They're from Canada.

6. Beg, Steal or Borrow - Ray LaMontagne - This one is off of his latest album. I'm not sure I have a favorite Ray LaMontagne song because they are all amazing.

7. Curs in the Weeds - Horse Feathers - I likes me some strings in my music and this band has it. The lead singer's voice has a lazy, slightly raspy feel to it. Perfect for rainy days.

8. Finch on Saturday - Horse Feathers - see above.

9. Yellow - Jem - This is a fantastic cover of Coldplay's song. It has a lullaby quality to it. (Thanks, Rachel!)

10. Take On Me - A.C. Newman - Brilliant. I love the A-Ha song...I love this one even more.

11. Videotape - Radiohead - Autumn driving is not complete without Radiohead. Gotta admit, kind of a downer, but surreal Radiohead, nonetheless.

12. Casimir Pulaski Day - Sufjan Stevens - see above.

13. I Found a Reason - Cat Power - Cover of a Velvet Underground song.

14. Mandi Mapes - I Already Know - inspired by the book of Ruth. Unassuming acoustic melody that I cannot get enough of. (Her voice kind of reminds me of Priscilla Ahn's.)

Go. Listen.

Happy Birthday, Faja!

2010-09-26T13:52:00.000-04:00

"It was times like these when I thought my father, who hated guns and had never been to any wars, was the bravest man who ever lived." To Kill a Mockingbird

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DAD - I LOVE YOU!

My Life with a Banshee - Eli at 19 Months

2010-09-23T12:50:00.000-04:00

This post will take a different direction than previous monthly letters. I feel that the story I'm about to tell will sum up our month with you, my sweet Eli. Prepare yourselves, Internet, for a harrowing tale.

I feel that as an English teacher, it is only fitting that I would want to pass on my love of books to my son. So, I have made every effort to make sure your library is fully stocked. You usually migrate to the ones that were free or came in a happy meal despite my best efforts to steer you toward the ones that cost me money or took thought on my part. But I digress. I love reading to you. You are such a fun audience. Whenever I used to read to my students, I felt as if my voice mimicked the lulling sound of ocean waves, as half my students used that time to catch up on sleep. Not you, my friend. You revel in my voices and my gestures. You laugh, you indulge me, we discuss themes and motifs with excitement (and by we, I mean me). Granted you don't really sit through an entire book, but I don't care; you at least stay in the same room. You grab stacks of books and put them in my lap. Reading is definitely FUNdamental in our house.

With this in mind, I decided that perhaps you would have fun attending the story time half hour at our local public library. To make sure that this half hour of literary bliss would be appropriate for someone of your energy level, I went to the library a week ahead of time to ask about this story time. Is it appropriate for your age group? What did they do? Were they aware that my child's record for sitting still was 1.2 seconds? The librarian reassured me that they had several young children Eli's age who rarely sat through an entire story. She said that by the end of the story, she is usually reading to herself while the young ones walk around. The half hour consisted of reading a book, dancing, and coloring to mix it up for those with the attention span of an Eli. I thought, "This will work." And the following Wednesday morning, we set out for the library eager with the anticipation of a new social outlet.

When I inquired about story time, the librarian told me there were usually six to eight kids who attended. At this session, however, there were two: you and a three year old girl...who was afraid of you. I noticed that there were six books out...all about cats. Okay. Eli likes cats. Maybe we'll draw pictures of cats or make cat sounds. Whatever. This should be fine. My friends, the situation progressed very rapidly to DEFCON 1 status. The sweet librarian (who was not the librarian I spoke to the week before) began reading one book. You were not interested. If I tried to keep you on my lap, you would make a sound that can only be described as a pig/cat hybrid being murdered. So I set you down. You walked over to the sweet three year old girl and began patting her on the head. She recoiled in disgust/shock/horror. Her face conveyed all these feelings. So, I tried to steer you toward the table to draw. That worked for 2.1 seconds. You took the crayon bucket and dumped it on the table, made your pig/cat cry and got back down. Then you decided to help the librarian with turning the pages in the book (a fun activity at home)...before she was done reading the page -- she was not amused. So then I steered you toward some puzzles...pig/cat cry. Finally, the librarian was done with the first book. "Good," I thought, "we'll sing a song or act like cats or something." Nope. She asked the three year old to pick out another book.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" I screamed to myself.

By this time, you picked up one of the cat books and took it over to the the three year old's grandpa. He did NOT want to read to you. So I took it and tried to show you the pictures...pig/cat cry. You found a baby doll in the corner to occupy you for 1.3 seconds. After you hugged the doll, you took it to the three year old to have her kiss it (you're so cute). She did NOT want to kiss it. So I kissed it...pig/cat cry. Finally, book #2 was done, but not until you tried to rearrange some of the library books on the bottom shelf.

"Okay, now we'll sing a song or color or clean toilets...anything besides reading another story out loud," I thought. Wrong.

The librarian asked YOU to pick out a book. You pondered over the selection for 1.1 seconds and picked up three of the books and started walking to the door. "I hear ya, kid," I thought. So I grabbed you (pig/cat cry) and took one of the books to the librarian with a pleading look that I hoped she would pick up on. Alas, book #3 began. You tried helping her turn the pages (before she was done reading the page), but she looked like she could handle it, so I picked you up...pig/cat cry. I took you to the back of the library to show you the biography section, hoping a diversion would calm you down. You informed me, however, that I should not take you away from your audience ever again and topped off your complaint with a Meryl Streep performance of falling down on the ground and writhing as if I had poisoned you. We should hear about your acceptance into Julliard any day now.

I decided it was time to go. But, I had to pick up the crayons you spilled, collect your jacket that you tried to put on the librarian and get you out of the building without you pulling a Rosemary's baby. So I set your writhing body down by the door, hoping you would look out and see the fire station across from the library and day dream about the fire trucks housed inside. Big mistake. As I was picking up crayons (mind you, the librarian is still reading, three year old is trying to listen, and three year old's grandpa is dialing Super Nanny), you began to roll the computer chair across the tiled floor very conspicuously. Dear Jesus, give me patience. I quickly picked up the crayons, grabbed your jacket, put the computer chair back, picked you up, and ran out of the library. I didn't say goodbye. I just left vowing never to return until you were in college.

Now let me explain a few things to you and my readers who may think you are out of control and you probably smoke and run dog fights in our house. This month has been a challenge. I think you have made your transition into the the terrible twos (ahead of schedule). You like to say no. You like to throw your pacifier in a fit of frustration when you don't get your way. You like to gently lay yourself on the ground (thank you, by the way) and fake cry when we tell you, "I'm sorry, you cannot eat that Twix bar...how about a banana?" And we are learning how to deal. We send you to your room, we try so hard to be consistent, we try to speak calmly to you. We're all new at this. And don't get me wrong, 80% of the time you are a pleasant child who is in love with life. And I probably should have thought twice about taking you to library story time so close to your nap. But again, we learn.

It's hard for me to accept that you're not really a baby any more. You have this strong desire to be more independent. And honestly, you have been strong willed since the womb. But, you have to know that I may know a little more than you and when I tell you to put down the bottle of toilet cleaner, it's for a good reason. I really am looking out for you. I know that these next years are going to be challenging, so please bear with me--I'm just as new at this as you are.

Please know that I love you so much and only want the best for you. And even when you're doing your best Kraken imitation, I don't love you any less, my sweet Eli-eli-oh.

Happy Birthday, Mater!

2010-09-18T21:14:00.000-04:00

Mater - A Haiku

Bathroom humor fan

Hey don't forget, I don't know

Awkward times abound

Happy Birthday, Marmee! We love you! Oh, and don't forget!

This Little Piggy Went to Therapy??

2010-09-12T22:09:00.000-04:00

The other day, whilst Eli and I were patronizing our local Taco Bell, Eli befriended a little girl in line with us. As I was admiring the hospitable nature of my child, I looked down at the little girl's bare...BARE!!! feet...(on the gross Taco Bell ground) and noticed she had six toes on one foot. She had five on one foot and six on the other for a grand total of eleven toes. After I quickly recited a line from The Princess Bride in my head, I began to wonder about Eli's little eleven toed friend.

How does she find shoes that fit? Is that why she's not wearing shoes? How do her parents modify the "This Little Piggy" game? Does the actual pinky toe have pinky toe envy? Why is she NOT WEARING SHOES WHILST WALKING ON THE TACO BELL GROUND? She will have a great 3 lies and 1 truth bit for youth group. Could she have it removed if she wanted? Or is it integral to her balance?

That's all I got for you, Internet.

Also, I was in the mood for pumpkin bread when I selected the latest color layout for my blog. That's why.

Another Post Wherein I Plagiarize Rachel Parton's Blog

2010-08-29T21:54:00.008-04:00

Lately I've been...

Plagiarizing: Rachel Parton's ideas...can you blame me? Check this gal out.

Excited About: Hanging up pictures in our apt...naked walls are unsettling.

Not Looking Forward To: Hanging up pictures in our apt

Procrastinating: Unpacking Ben's box o' sweatshirts.

Thinking: What's so great about Mad Men and Breaking Bad, Emmy Academy? Huh?

Reading: Sense and Sensibility and, starting tomorrow, The Help

~~Cooking~~ Eating: Subway's buffalo chicken sandwich...well done, Jared, well done.

Watching: The Emmys

TiVoing: Public Access television (what, TiVo?)

Listening To: Woodpigeon and Barbara Streisand

Missing: the buffalo chicken sandwich I ate earlier...

Laughing At With: Heather Wikler...I just talked with her on the phone.

Wishing: I wouldn't have watched Confessions of a Shopaholic last night. Be ye not so careless with your Netflix queue.

Also, that Sara Luke and I can be reunited sometime this week.

Dreading: Getting 3 cavities filled on Tuesday.

Being Adventurous: ...and cutting my own bangs.

You may now rest easy, Internet. You're caught up on the life and times of Jeanette Parker.

I Likes Me Some...

2010-08-23T20:15:00.000-04:00

In my latest Eli post I neglected to highlight his recent likes. These are more precious than silver to not write down, so here's a bulleted list for all you type Aers.

Hugging. Eli has always been an affectionate child, but he has stepped it up. Any time he sees children, he squeals with delight and runs over to welcome them to his vicinity...by hugging them. Tonight at Cottage Inn, these two little boys walked in with their dad. Eli's kid radar immediately started going berserk. He ran over to them after clawing his way out of our booth, leaving none alive, and started laughing, like they had just quoted a line from 30 Rock. Then he followed them to their table and started hugging them. First the older one, then the younger one (who returned his hug). Then was inconsolable the rest of our time there, when I insisted he stay at our table and let his new found BFFs eat their dinner.
(Not a new one, but warrants mentioning) Tractors/Trucks. He is so in love with tractors and/or trucks, he is able to identify one, just by hearing it.
Elephants. He loves pictures of them, seeing them on t.v., the one that came with the building we're living in now. Okay, so that's the only thing this building does not come equipped with (dp).
Fire trucks (this deserves a bullet aside from the truck bullet). He sees one and will make a siren sound. If we even walk by the fire station and don't go see the trucks, he has a melt down...it's so sweet to see a writhing child on the side of M-60. I mean, it's just beautiful.

Ummm...so I think that's it...I can't think of anything else...ahem (Pringles). What? Who wrote that?

I Am 18 Months Going on 18 Years, Ladies will Fall in Line

2010-08-17T21:32:00.000-04:00

Well, it seems this blog's sole purpose is to communicate your growth to the fans (the fans being your grandma). 18 MONTHS!!! That's how many you are. Yesterday, I had to buy you a new pair of sandals (thank you, Kohls for still having sandals) because 1.) your feet have grown to such gigantic proportions we have Big Foot hunters camping outside our building and 2.) your old sandals smelled like road kill wrapped up in some bigger road kill that had been wedged in a locker next to a urinal in a boys' locker room for the last six months. Anyway, I was looking at these size 7 sandals and thinking, "my little baby has turned into a big boy." And as I was silently weeping, you jarred me back to the present by a squeal that indicated you were, in fact, tired of sitting in the same spot for more than 10 seconds and I needed to move, Jeeves. Oh, the things that have changed over the last two months.

First off, you have this amazing sense of humor. Lately, whenever you see a camera or someone appears to be taking a picture of you, you make the above featured face. You squint up your eyes and open your mouth into this big grin (dimples and all). It is so funny! Sometimes, you and I will be playing, and you'll just look at me and start giggling (like Elmo just made fun of my Jay Leno chin, and you're all like, "for sure, Elmo"). You laugh all the time, which I love. Along with laughter, you have this joyful squeal that is usually used to indicate a dog (or animal of some sort) is within 30 miles of you. You are such an affectionate, loving child. My favorite is when you're sitting in my lap and you look up at me and give me a kiss. I love that life is mostly a fun time for you. I love that you feel safe and content and are trusting. And it's these times of giggling and happiness and kisses that I hold onto with every fiber of my being when I am in the midst of the OTHER times.

The other times. So, you and temper tantrums have become BFFs. You guys are texting all the time, especially while I'm shopping...where there are people...with eyes...judging me and my parenting skills. I was a little shaken by the appearance of Temper Tantrum. I mean you are my sweet little boy who usually obeys his mama. So, your temper tantrums...how can I describe them? Well, take that joyful squeal you make around animal life, add some angst, throw in a dash of death metal and sprinkle some Jim Carrey ala Dumb and Dumber (you know, the scene where he's making the most annoying sound in the world?) and you have a resemblance of your angry squeal. It's horribly grating. In fact, the CIA has contacted us to see if they can record the squeal to use while interrogating potential enemies of state. And then, you very gently and intentionally place your body on the ground (which is very nice of you) and kind of cry. It's not a real cry because there are no tears. I call it your Meryl Streep cry, because it is quite a performance. It's awesome. Especially in the check out line at Ikea or in the middle of Office Max after I thwart your attempts to steal pens.

These temper tantrums aren't a regular occurrence. They usually take place after shopping for too long, when we you have to come inside, or when you are hungry...kind of like your dad's. Which, honestly, I can totally sympathize. When your friend, Temper Tantrum, first arrived, all belligerent and smacking his gum, I was distraught. Was I a bad mother? Am I not consistent enough? Aside from these temper tantrums, you are usually pretty obedient. When we tell you "no," you are pretty quick to comply. We do have times (usually when we change your diaper or try to wipe your face after a meal) where you turn into a diva, but we are pretty good with handling these situations. I did a lot of reading about temper tantrums. And here's what I've decided: it's normal. You are normal. Toddlers throw temper tantrums (and please, random reader, don't tell me your toddler doesn't, otherwise, I may have to talk about you behind your back). I just need to be patient and hope that when you're 13, you will have outgrown this phase.

You have had such a fun summer. Not because we've visited exotic lands or conversed with the whales, but simply because you love being outside. L-O-V-E it! You swim, you run, you climb up slides, you put bugs in your mouth, you play with any ball you stumble across, you write poetry to tractors, you sing, you dance. You are at peace outside. In fact, I think you secretly wish you were born into the Swiss Family Robinson. It's kind of nice for me (because isn't life about pleasing your mother? Isn't it?). I feel like your love for the outdoors forces me to be more fit and less couch potatoey. It really is an all out workout to keep up with you.

When you were a wee baby, friends, who had little boys, would look at you and comment about not remembering when their boys were as little as you were. I remember thinking, "how can you forget what this feels like?" And now, as I try to wedge my ginormous foot from my mouth, I get it. You are growing up so fast. I found one of your newborn diapers during our move (oh, yeah...we moved this month...which is a story that deserves its own post. Look for it soon.), and could not believe that your cute little tushie (you're welcome, 17 year old Eli) used to fit in that diaper. I feel like I write this every time I write an Eli update, but your growth and development constantly amaze me. You can walk (and run away from us), you can talk (not in sentences, but your point is heard), you can decide that you do or don't want to do something, you feed yourself. You are nearly self-sufficient. Almost more than some high school students I used to know.

I love watching you grow into a little man. And it cannot be said enough, but I love you more than I can say to you in a lifetime. Happy 18 months, Eli-eli-oh!

PSA: The Following are NOT Appreciated

2010-07-10T12:21:00.001-04:00

I know people mean well (most of the time)...but I've endured the following questions/statements for a while now, and it is time to put my foot down. If you cross my path and think any of the following...keep them tucked away in that cute little brain of yours and spare me the self-esteem blows.

Are you tired? You look tired. (Nope, my eyes are just small)
(variation on the first) Did you just wake up? (Nope, been up for hours)
You look like you don't feel well. (Nope, this is my face)
(variation on the third) Wow, you look like you're sick.
Don't worry, that pregnancy weight will come off (non-solicited)
Your toes are so long. (Unless I'm a sloth, this is not a compliment)
You have a lot of freckles.
Are you Chinese? (I in no way mean this as a dig against Chinese people, but I AM NOT Chinese.)
You cook?
Wow, your child is cute! (after looking at me and then back at my child.)

Okay, I think that's it. I'll make an addendum if I dredge up any other painful memories.

And I Ran...I Ran So Far Away

2010-06-27T17:02:00.000-04:00

I ran my first 5k since the birth of my child yesterday (I know there's a misplaced modifier in this sentence, but I'm not really sure how to reword it to make sense -- mind you, I didn't have my first child yesterday -- I ran a 5k yesterday). I ran it with my-way-more-in-shape-than-me sister, who was a saint and stayed with me the whole race, even when I stopped for a second to choke down my breakfast which tried making a second appearance around the 2-mile mark.

I'm not proud of the race. I finished under 30 minutes (which was my goal--actually my goal was not to die, but 2 for 2 is good for me), but I ran the course a whole minute faster when I did a test run last week. It just wasn't a good running day for me. I think my final shame came when I was passed by a speed walker....A SPEED WALKER!!!! Classic speed walker, too -- with the hips moving, arms swinging ready for take off.

Oh well...I'll just have to run another one so I can prove to myself that I can in fact beat a speed walker.

Here are some pics for your enjoyment.

My cheering section

This One is Going Out to the Dads (you know who you are)

2010-06-20T20:40:00.000-04:00

"'Miss Jean Louise, stand up. Your father is passin'.'" To Kill a Mockingbird

I think TKAM is one of my favorite books because the character of Atticus has always reminded me of my own father. My father exudes a quiet wisdom. He is a man of character and grace. He is a man of God and a faithful servant. He may not be the best shot in the county, but he has earned the respect and trust of so many people. I am one of his biggest fans. I love you, faja!

Happy Father's Day, Dad!

Throughout the last 16 months, my husband has been a model of selflessness. It's actually kind of annoying, because I really don't know how he does it. Parenthood requires a person to give up a lot of the freedom he/she had prior to having children. While I've had to accept this fact kicking and screaming sometimes, Ben has made the transition quite easily. He is so gentle and accommodating with our son. There's no greater pleasure I get than watching the two of them laugh and play together. Eli has a tremendous role model in his father. I could not have asked for a better partner with whom to raise a family. I love you, Benj!

Happy Father's Day, Benny!

Molars and Haircuts and Tantrums, Oh My: 15/16 month edition

2010-06-15T23:44:00.000-04:00

I've decided that if I ever wrote a book it would be called, ...And Then I Farted. Classy, right? It's just I embarrass myself on a daily basis, and a lot of times it's because I've passed gas in a public place... around human beings...who can smell...and have the power of deduction. However, I've recently come up with a title for a book I would write about you and me (and these last two months, during which I've become an expert in interpreting whining and writhing). This book would be entitled Mom for Sale. I envision a picture of me sitting on a curb with a For Sale sign around my neck with you standing next to me. These past two months have been a journey in discipline, laughter and patience.

Any extra ~~flubber~~ baby weight I had from being pregnant with you has been burned away due to racking up the miles on my pedometer from chasing you around. Chasing you up stairs. Chasing you down stairs. Then up again. Then down. Then across campus. Then through Lowell. You are in a constant state of motion. Like the earth (and there's your science lesson for the day). And it's not just walking or running or climbing. You are touching things and moving things and playing with keys (that we can never find...EVER) and taking clothes out of drawers and strewing my lady products throughout our house. Ewww, I said lady products....LADY PRODUCTS, Ben.

We bought a bike trailer to pull you around the Arbor (on our bikes, not rickshaw style). You love it! You hold onto your sippy cup and keep us updated on any dogs within a 30 mile radius of us (it's your super power). I mean, really, we could have strapped a card board box to our bikes, put some pillows in and you would have been just as content, because you're outside, which happens to be your favorite place. You will stand by the screen door waiting...just waiting for someone to let you out. And when that moment comes...oh, how the angels sing. You usually dart for the basketball court because that's where you will see a ball...your favorite word. And when I try to take you away from your favorite place, your skin begins to peel off your body, you turn into a rubbery contortionist and shoot fire from your eyes. It's my favorite.

Over the last two months, you've developed this thing called "a will of your own". You have realized that maybe if you scream loud enough or whine long enough or cry those very sad crocodile tears your mother or father will let you get what you want. Maybe we'll let you never bathe. Or maybe we can just let your diaper stay on you until it disintegrates. Perhaps we'd let you eat that whole bag of barbecue chips. It's really, really hard to be consistent with you. When my mom used to say, "just be consistent." I was like "psshh, piece of cake." Whatever. I feel like I'm constantly having to do time out or tell you, "sorry, no, but can I interest you in this?" And if I slip up, you write it down in your journal late at night so that you can remember to stick it to me tomorrow. I can handle the writhing and whining at home. But, when we're in the middle of Meijer, I'm at a loss. Honestly, I usually just let you whine it out, much to the chagrin of my fellow patrons.

There was a two week period where I thought you might take out an ad on Craig's List for a new mother, because clearly, I was no longer getting the job done. I was obviously ruining your life (insert door slam here). You started to hit me when you became frustrated. And I just don't like to be hit, not even by someone as adorable as you. Every time you hit, we do a time out. Our time out consists of me holding you in your time out chair. I'm not sure if you're cognitively aware of what time out is. But, I have noticed a decline in your hitting. You do this thing now where you act like you're going to hit me and then you put your hands on your face. Or you look at your hand like, "Oops, how did that get there? Is that my hand?" You still hit once in a while, but I am hoping by the time you enter pre-school, your bid for the UFC will have subsided.

I am not saying these two months have not been hard on you. You had 5...FIVE whole teeth come in. Four of them were molars. I remember when my wisdom teeth came in--I thought I was going to die. You also had your first hair cut. So, I'm not sure if there was a Samson thing going on there. You lost your inverted Flock of Seagulls do and didn't know what to do with yourself. Your whole world was off-kilter. And then Lost ended and Glee is gone for the summer. Who wouldn't writhe in frustration?

These last months have really tested my patience. I cannot tell you how many times I have prayed that the Lord would give me patience...and a sedative. When you're doing something you're not supposed to (like washing your hands in the toilet), my first reaction is to get mad. But, a lot of times you just don't know any better. I mean hey, it's water...you like water...you like washing your hands...it's your height. Makes sense to me. The super-uptight, anal part of me cringes when you wipe ketchup in your newly washed hair or have ketchup covering your entire up half. I'm sorry if I've ever made you feel uptight or scared. I don't want you to feel like you're nothing short of incredible to me. I know it's been 16 months, but I'm still learning about this whole parenthood thing...and that show Parenthood, NOT a big help (sheesh, NBC).

I remember this one episode of the Cosby Show where Vanessa wore make up when her mom explicitly told her not to. When Claire found out, she started counting to 10 and then calmly and sagely handed out her discipline. Okay, so I'm not Claire Huxtable. Sorry. But, I really try to be fair with you. I make every effort to not react out of anger. Your dad and I are trying to help you become a caring, selfless, conscientious individual. Sometimes it's not fun. But sometimes, you make faces like this and all is right with the world. I love you, my sweet Eli, eli, oh.

Shameless...Utterly Shameless

2010-06-12T22:55:00.000-04:00

Today I guaranteed my spot in Dante's lowest circle of Hell. I mean, I might as well start saving for my child's future therapy. So, Eli and I were in Meijer after our lunch date at Wendy's. We were in an aisle by ourselves and I felt the urge to ummm...well, ease my gastrointestinal tract (fancy way of saying toot).

Sweet mercy, it was a doozey. Silent and horribly, horribly violent. So we're still in this aisle and this ubiquitous smell is unrelenting. I started wondering if I had swallowed some road kill in my sleep. So, I'm trying to decide between a couple of things for Eli when another family turns into the aisle. A sweet family. An innocent family. A family who did not hide the disgust they felt when they walked into my sulfuric stink fest.

And then I did it. So unforgivable.

I turned to Eli and said, "Eli, did you go poopy? Peewey."

That's right, Internet, I blamed my flesh and blood, my beautiful baby boy. I made a beeline to get out of the aisle and apologized to my son after we were out of earshot of the gasping family in aisle death. He just smiled, but I could see the look of betrayal in his eyes.

And I know if he's anything like his father, he will someday get me back.

What's That, Internet...You Missed Me...You're Sweet

2010-06-10T23:01:00.001-04:00

Sorry to disappoint my readers, but you've been in England for the last three weeks, mom; I didn't think you'd miss it. So much has been going on in the Parker house. And by so much, I mean very little. Here's a nifty bulleted list for you. No need to thank me (I prefer daisies).

Eli has been possessed by a slime-spewing, head rotating monster. For the last two weeks, he has learned to contort his body in ways that would make a Cirque du Soleil performer proud. We have his audition for Allegria planned for next week. These contortions make an appearance when he is not getting his way. For example: when he wants to wrap the cord of my curling iron around his neck (turned off...but still, probably not good parenting); or when he wants to drink milk from his sippy cup that's been sitting out for three hours; or when I try to change his poopy diaper (contortions during this are super fun, as poop usually gets on my arm and his feet); or when he wants to keep walking all the way to the highway by himself; or when I stop him from eating toilet paper from the trash. Soooo...that's been fun. I'm not sure what to do. We do not give into him, we put him in time out, we are as consistent as possible, we have Super Nanny living in our storage room for the month...what else can we do?

On a more positive note...

Ben now has his motorcycle license and is searching for a motorcycle to show of his mad CHiPs skills. Meanwhile, I have increased my Xanax dosage (ha..ha...ha...ha...joking).
I am running again. I'm planning to run a 5k in a couple weeks. There is a possibility that I may cough up blood at the end and need oxygen, but gotta love getting in shape.
Eli and I got to spend a week with gaga and gaga (that's Eli for grandma and grandpa)...or he just really likes Lady Gaga (he has requested to wear his red rubber onesie a lot lateley). Anyway, my mother-in-law had foot surgery and we went up to north to help her not go crazy whilst laying in bed unable to teach, clean, cook, find good deals at garage sales, organize, do laundry, and save the planet from social-studies-illiterate fools. It was great to spend time with our family and get away from the Arbor for a while. Also, I laughed A. LOT while I was there, so good ab work out.
Lost ended its 6 year run...and took a piece of my heart with it. I won't go into my analysis of it here, but I LOVED it! It was the best series finale I've seen...ever. I really felt like the major questions were answered, and it was just a great way to end the show. I cried at the end and am still wearing my mourning clothes.
We're moving to a new dorm building in about a month. It'll be like a Jetsons upgrade. We're pumped.
I had a mole removed from my shoulder. One time, I laid on a white sand beach in Florida for three hours after scoffing at wearing sunscreen. Two days later my face looked like Sloth's (from The Goonies) due to the alarming amount of blistering and I was seizing in the bathroom (okay, I think I just passed out after throwing up, but I heard my mom tell my dad she thought I was having a seizure right before I passed out). Fast forward to today. I am now concerned that this blistering sun burn will result in skin cancer. So when I found a mole that had morphed into a weird caricature of Mr. Potato Head, I made an appointment with my doctor. He referred me to the nicest dermatologist on the face of the planet, who then removed it. And the results are in...it was just a weird mole. You may now exhale.
T - 20 until Eclipse. Let the awkward Kristen Stewart interviews begin.

the end.

Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow

2010-05-13T23:13:00.000-04:00

Today marked yet another milestone in my nearly adult son's life. Eli...now brace yourself....Eli got his first haircut. Okay, so my child does not have thick, lustrous hair. He has fine hair. Blond, fine hair. So a haircut seemed a ways off. But, friends, up until today, Eli had a mullet. Okay, so it was not technically a mullet. Actually, the back of his hair was growing longer than the rest of his hair on the right and left side of his head. So, it looked like he had hair horns growing out of the back of his head toward his neck. It was the anti-Flock of Seagulls. It would curl up after he'd gone a couple days without a bath or if he had a particularly rough night in the crib. Anyway, people were getting on my case about it. And by people, I mean my sister. Who was relentless. I pictured him looking back at his baby pictures and cursing the fact that he had a mother who allowed him to grow neck-hair-horns. HAIR HORNS!!

So, we took him to where Ben gets his hair cut. He was so precious with his little smock on. And after they slipped me a sedative to control the weeping, I was able to snap some pictures of the event. Now, I should tell you that unless you are around my child a lot, you will not really be able to see a difference. But, the horns are gone...along with a little piece of my heart.

Before shot...(notice he's trying to put two pacifiers in his mouth. awesome.)

After

(I caught this while he was in mid-conversation with a friend)

Aaaaaand, I wanted to put this one in b/c this is the face he makes before I take his picture now. awesome.

Happy Disputed Birthday, Willy S.

2010-04-23T21:26:00.000-04:00

This post will definitely solidify my standing as a big fat nerd, as I am posting a Happy Birthday shoutout to a long deceased English playwright. But, what can I say? Well, my good friend, Sammy, puts it best:

"Shakespeare knew the human mind, and its most minute and intimate workings, and he never introduces a word, or a thought, in vain or out of place; if we do not understand him, it is our own fault." -Samuel Taylor Coleridge

(This bobblehead was given to me by one of my students last year. I love it with every fiber of my being.)

In honor of the man of the day, I give you my favorite sonnet. If you've ever seen Sense and Sensibility, this is the sonnet Maryanne quotes as she laments the loss of her Willoughby.

Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken
Love’s not Time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle’s compass come:
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

Eli Flying the Friendly Skies - 14 Months

2010-04-20T00:53:00.000-04:00

So, I'm probably going to write this every month now, but oh em gee, you change at phenomenal rates. Just when I think I've mastered Eli, version 1.1, you present this whole new operating system, which is faster, slimmer, has better gaming and is equipped with wi-fi.

(I heart ketchup...on everything)

One of the biggest events this past month, aside from your ever expanding vocabulary, is your first plane ride. We took a plane out to see your great-grandpa this past month. Now, I have to tell you, I was envisioning crying, writhing, screaming, arrests, detainment, trials, appearances on Larry King, our story appearing for the first time on Oprah, etc. Why do I worry? Tell me. Does the Lord not take care of everything? You were AMAZING! People would stop at our seats as we were de-planing to praise your amazing awesomeness. You did better than some adults on the plane. You were great!

Now, let's talk about your personality and how much fun it is. If I were your age and we went to the same playground, we would totally be best friends. I mean, you kind of are my best friend now. What, Norman Bates? That is not weird. We hang out all day, every day. You've seen my "too-lazy-to-wash-my-face-last-night-now-I-have-raccoon-mascara-under-my-puffy-7am-eyes face". Granted, you give me this adorable double-take when you see me like that, but you still call me me mama in public even after you've seen it. I digress. Anyway, your personality. You are such a ham. I really don't know where you get it. I mean just because I make up songs about what we're doing and your dad plays air trombone when we're driving doesn't necessarily mean you would also go the humor route. You have this fake laugh you use when other people are laughing and you're not really sure why but you don't want to seem out of the loop so you'll just act like you get it. It's hilarious.

I am almost afraid to write this down for fear that it will end, but you are the most loving little boy. You are constantly giving kisses, hugs, cuddling, etc. I don't even have to ask for a kiss most of the time. You will be off in your own world, praying for a tractor to drive by, when you are suddenly overcome by an urge to shower me with affection. I don't want this phase to end. But I know that probably in 13 years, you'll demand that I drop you off a block from your school so that you don't have to claim you know the woman with the "too-lazy-to-wash-my-face-last-night-now-I-have-raccoon-mascara-under-my-puffy-7am-eyes face". And, honestly, I probably would be worried if you acted this way once your voice started changing. But I'm loving the fact that you are such a snuggle-bug right now. You can almost blow kisses, but you get distracted half way through and just start sticking your hand in your mouth.

(snuggling with Uncle Jason)

It's so amazing to me that even though you don't have an extensive vocabulary, you still understand what we're saying to you. When we tell you to put something back, you do it (unless you get distracted and put it in your mouth). When we tell you to go get your pacifier, you find one of your many hiding spots and bring it to us (side note: I found one of your pacifiers in the fridge the other day. Eli, are you sleep-snacking again?). You know what we mean when we say "bath time", "diaper", "go bye-bye", "bed time", "Thomas video", "grandma/grandpa", "eat", "high chair", "Wheel of Fortune", etc., etc.

And your vocabulary is ever-expanding. At this point, you can say (do you want to sit down, b/c I am going to write every word you can say): mama, dada, ball, yum, good, good job, car, truck, dog, keys, gama/gampa, that, and shoe. When we're driving somewhere, you are in the backseat making sure that we are aware of the cars and trucks that are also on the road.

(watch out ladies)

Along with being fascinated by cars, you are obsessed with our car keys. You take our keys and put them in and out of your shopping cart (the toy you hand picked). You put them in the shoe basket, in the seat cushions, in your toy chest, etc. My favorite hiding spot was when I found them in my rain boots. You've also taken to removing all your toys from the toy basket or all the shoes from the shoe basket or all of your books from the book basket so that you can put them back. You love stacking things in like-piles and then putting them back (for the most-part) in their proper location. A son after his mother's OCD heart.

(stacking your books on top of dad)

I know this post is reaching Tolstoy length, but I have one more thing that you've started doing this past month. Climbing. You have the upper-body strength of one of those pommel horse gymnasts. You pulled yourself up onto your activity table and then tried climbing onto the TV stand thingy. You can get up onto the coffee table. You can almost pull yourself up onto our couch and chair. I'm pretty impressed. But with climbing comes falling, which you also love to do. You like to perch yourself on the arm of our big chair and fall into your kick-and-crawl aquarium tunnel. Actually, fall and then roll. It takes 10 years off of my life.

I am constantly blown away by the changes that take place with you every day. I keep expecting to wake up one morning and find you making coffee and yelling at the t.v because Matt Lauer is making some thoughtless remark. You are getting so big so fast. I am so blessed that I get to spend my days with you watching you make new discoveries, learn new words, climb new furniture. I hope you're having as much fun as I am. If not, I guess I can foot the bill for your future therapy.

Eli: Version 1.1

2010-04-19T22:18:00.001-04:00

So, technically you turned 13 months ~~2 weeks ago~~ a month ago; but, honestly, my writing muse has been on vacation. Not sure if she's going to come back. I would sit down to write you a letter and my mind would go blank. I wrote a couple sentences but erased them due to their dumb-sounding factor. I want my letters to you to be sincere and well-written, not just something I whip out of my wee brain on the fly. So, here it is. Your ~~13 and 1/2 month~~ 13 + 1 month letter. Please contain your excitement.

Thirteen months has been completely different from any other month you've graced us with your presence. That sounds completely inane, because of course you're going to continue to develop and each month will be different. But this month was so different from your previous twelve months that I feel you turned into a little boy overnight. You're no longer my wee baby. You want to do things on your own. Explore things on your own. Eat without me feeding you. You're even getting too big for me to rock without you getting uncomfortable. (Don't worry, that weeping you hear is just from my, um, allergies.)

From the minute you wake up to the minute you go to sleep, you are constantly moving. We are currently in talks with the government to figure out a way to harness your energy for the good of the environment. Those EPA guys are nice. You walk everywhere. Ain't no mountain high enough to keep you from getting to where ever you want to go. And where you want to go is outside. Which I completely understand after hibernating in awake mode for the last bajillion months of winter. I've been able to open up our front door this last month. If I let you, you would probably stand by the screen door all day. You love watching people walk in and out of the building, people walk by with their dogs and most of all, the lawn mowers and gators that frequent the front of our building. You are in love with tractors. IN LOVE! I found a note the other day in which you asked one of them to go out with you, circle yes or no.

Along with moving, we can now add groovin' to your kinesthetic repertoire. You love to dance. There doesn't even have to be music; you could hear the bass from a car passing by and you begin busting a move. It's my favorite thing. You get this huge grin on your face and bounce up and down and move your arms from side to side. I've sent in your video for So You Think You Can Dance...we should hear any day now.

You've become quite the chatter box. I need translators to interpret, but you're definitely trying to communicate. So far you say, "mama", "dada", "ball", "yum", and "dat" (which I think is that). It's amazing to see you try to communicate with us. You point to everything and say "dat, dat". If you want milk, you go to where we keep your cups, point and say "dat, dat". When you want me to pick you up because you hear the gator coming to pick up our trash and you have a weird fascination with seeing it, you come over to me, point outside, and say "dat, dat". You are such a big boy.

And big boys don't cry, right? Right? I believe this picture was taken after I told you "no, you can't play with those chemicals." This picture is actually a tad misleading. You don't really throw tantrums. When you do, it's because you are uber-tired and are upset with who they sent home on American Idol. I can usually distract you with a toy from your massive collection. You do pretty well with "no". However, now that I've put that out into the universe, you will likely start spewing green goo and rotating your head ala Linda Blair. You're really quite a wonderful child. You make my day every day. I know it exists, but I cannot fathom a joy greater than this. Now, can we talk about your static electricity infused hair do?

30 Things I Love About My 30 Year Old Husband

2010-04-11T00:57:00.001-04:00

Happy 20-10 Birthday to one of my favorite people in the whole world. The WHOLE world. There are way more than 30 things that I love about my husband, but I thought 30 would be a fitting number.
So, sit back, relax, maybe get some popcorn, turn off your phone, and enjoy this tribute to Benjamin Bruce Parker. (Warning: Exhaustive collection of photos ahead).

1. His smile. Have you seen it? The kid has perfect teeth. PERFECT!

2. His laugh. I love to hear Ben laugh. It is so infectious.

3. His unique way of accepting compliments. He rolls his eyes very dramatically and gets this goofy grin.

4. His very deep loyalty to the Tigers. Ben is no where near a fair weather fan. His veins run blue and orange.

5. His sense of humor. Ben knows how to lighten up any situation with a carefully constructed sarcastic comment or joke.

6. His brown eyes. Gorgeous.

7. His luxurious lashes. He once convinced me that his eye lashes were used for a mascara commercial. Very believable b/c any girl would kill for lashes like his.

8. His love of bathroom humor. This is one of the reasons I knew I'd found my soul mate when we started dating. I could never be with someone in front of whom I could not break wind (loudly and/or violently).

9. His devotion to his family. I once heard that you can tell a how a man will treat his wife by how he treats his mother. I'm lucky to have met such a devoted son. Ben loves his parents and his sisters. I know he would do anything for them, as well as my family.

10. His easy going personality. Ben is the yin to my yang. While I'm in the corner breathing into a paper bag, he is totally relaxed and confident that things will work out...no matter the situation.

11. His love for cars. Ben has reached the end of the Internet searching for cars. He is constantly falling in love with a new vehicles. If we owned every car Ben has wanted to buy, we would...well, we would have a lot of cars.

12. The fact that he's so young at heart. Eli received some Duplo blocks for his birthday. They are Ben's favorite toy.

13. His voice. It's like buttah. Have you heard him sing? You should.

14. The way that he gets embarrassed when I sing really loud in the car or when I dance to the mall music when we're shopping together.

15. His guitar skills. That's right, ladies, he can sing and play guitar.

16. His ability to connect with special needs kids. I think Ben would make an amazing Special Ed teacher. The way he loves and acts with his cousin B.J. is amazing. He loves that kid so much.

17. His creativity. Ben has so many out-of-the-box ideas. He has done some great things in his job because of this ability.

18. The fact that he's a dreamer. Ben is always optimistic about our future and where God is taking us. He's very inspiring.

19. His devotion to fire fighting. Ben has gone through hours upon hours upon hours of training to work as a volunteer firefighter. He loves his department and loves helping people. If he's not looking at cars on the internet, he's perusing firehouse.com.

20. How good he is with kids. We have friends who have a little girl who adores Ben. One time she lost her tooth that was supposed to go to the tooth fairy that very night. The only thing that calmed her down is when Ben called the tooth fairy to tell her what had happened with the missing tooth, and assured the little girl that the tooth fairy would still leave something for her. It was so sweet.

21. His work ethic. Ben is not a slacker and has little tolerance for people who are.

22. The fact that he has seen every episode of Friends numerous times...even though he doesn't really like Friends.

23. The way he smells. I mean his scent, not the fact that he uses his nose. I love it.

24. His love for travel.

25. His insane collection of baseball hats.

26. The fact that he'll watch HGTV with me.

27. The way he takes care of me when I'm on my deathbed with a cold or something equally dramatic.

28. His adventurous spirit. You don't get six concussions by staying inside. Don't worry, only three or four of them have been documented.

29. He's the most incredible father. I could write epic poetry about how wonderful he is with Eli.

30. How much he loves his Savior. Ben strives every day to live a Christ-centered life. I am blessed to have married a man who is so grounded in his faith.

Happy 30th Birthday, Benj. I love you!

And Then I Died

2010-04-06T14:20:00.001-04:00

When I was in college, I used to get these horrible migraines once or twice a month. I'm pretty sure they were stress induced. Since then, I don't seem to get them as frequently; I probably have three to four a year, and they are pretty manageable. Last night, though, the devil took up residency in my frontal lobe and poked me with his pitch fork until I wanted to die. I have never had such a horrible migraine. Come take a journey with me as I relive an experience that I can only liken to giving birth out of your eye.

There are probably several reasons why I had this migraine. I think top on the list, though, is the illegal doses of sugar I ingested yesterday. I'm serious. I probably ate an entire bag of whopper robin's eggs...for breakfast. Then, Ben brought me a doughnut for second breakfast. I thought that if I drank a glass of orange juice I would be satisfying my fruit serving for the day. My body is not used to eating so much sugar, which is crazy, because I'm pretty sure a few months ago I could have schooled Willy Wonka. I also think the schizophrenic weather patterns had a part to play, along with a stressful week last week.

I should have known I was going to have a migraine because a little before I left for work I started seeing auras and had spots in my vision. I'm not really sure why I didn't take anything. I left for work with an inkling of a headache but nothing serious. Ten minutes after I got to work, Satan began using my frontal lobe as a bass drum. I almost left my table a couple times to go throw up, but I was able to stick it out. It was by the grace of God that I was able to get through the very short two hours of work.

As I drove home, I sought out any bridge I could drive off of to make the pain go away. When I got home, I whined all the way to the couch and laid there writhing. Ben told me to take something. I didn't have anything in my stomach, though, and was afraid taking something would make my nausea worse. I couldn't take it, though; my head felt as if a baby was going to start crowning from my eye. You should know that when I have a migraine, I take on this hunchback form. It's as if standing up straight will make things worse. So I hobbled to the kitchen and choked down some medicine. Ten minutes later, I threw up (actually, dry heaved). Five seconds after that I started crying. One minute later, I crawled to my bed and asked someone to chop off my head. There was no one in my room, so no one acquiesced.

Ben came in a little later and told me to come out and eat something. I cried all the way out to the family room. I sat on the couch for a minute before the sun-like brightness of our two table lamps made me want to tear my eyes out. Also, the smell of food made things worse. I hobbled/crawled back to my bed where I prayed for the sweet release of death. I couldn't even lay my head on my pillow.

Four hours later when Ben came to bed, I still had the migraine. Still!!! Dear God, it was horrible. I had that migraine for seven hours. SEVEN HOURS!! That is longer than I was in labor. I kept asking for an epidural, but, again, I was talking to myself.

Today, I have had a few aftershocks, but nothing bad. It was some of the worst pain I have ever experienced. I would not wish it on anybody. Not even Alex Trebek, and I can't stand that guy.

"Oh Muse, Tell Me the Story..."

2010-04-05T10:52:00.000-04:00

I have been a negligent blogger. Honestly, I have had no inclination to write. AT.ALL. I have a letter to Eli for his 13 month birthday sitting in my drafts; I have another draft detailing our trip to California; and I started another post about random things I think about. All of them are half finished. Well, Eli's is finished, but I don't like it; it's too...ummm...I don't know.

There is this fabulous book called Bird by Bird that instructs writer's block inflicted writers to just start writing and the inspiration should come. So, I'm just going to put together something in the hopes that my muse will take a break from sipping drinks on a beach somewhere far away and sing to me a story.

So, I'm once again ~~stealing~~ borrowing Rachel's list (with some of my own modifications). I know to following is not a best seller, but it's something.

Reading: Wild Things. My friend, Sara gave this blessed book to me for my birthday. I haven't read all of it, but the insight these men provide is so interesting. Not only do I see my own son in their writing, but I see my husband. It has compelled me to read Wild at Heart. This book has been somewhere on my "must read" list for a while, but reading Wild Things has bumped it up the queue.

Oh, and I'm still reading Middlemarch by George Eliot. The book is 800+ pages, people.

Listening: So my ipod has been sitting in the bottom of my purse for a week now without a charge. It really is a lot of work to take it out of my purse, walk it 10 feet to my computer and charge it. I can't even stand it. So, I've been listening to a mixed c.d. (in my car) complete with music from Sufjan, Regina Spektor, Aqualung, Ray LaMontagne, and Van Morrison. There is also a random Beyonce song on it...not sure what I was thinking there.

Watching: Ben and I have been watching Seinfeld episodes (from season 5) after we've put Eli to bed the last couple nights. Two nights ago, my sister Carol came over and we watched New Moon. Jealous?

Cooking: Nothing. I suck. The last thing I made was chicken burritos. And that was last Monday. This past week was a bit of a challenge, and so I really had no motivation to do really anything.

Eating: Candy. Sweet, cavity inducing candy. I gave up candy for Lent. No, I'm not Catholic; I just wanted to give up something that has been a vice of mine for far too long. So, I gave up candy. I tried giving up sweet things all together, but about three weeks in, I felt that I might murder someone, so I bought some Little Debbie oatmeal cream pies. (I kind of cheated with the candy thing and ate a McDonald's M&M flurry, but I mean I just count that as ice cream.) So, my mother gave us this massive Easter basket filled with candy. Internet, I have not stopped eating from it since she gave it to us yesterday at lunch. I had a hand full of Whopper Robin's Eggs for breakfast. The lesson learned here: don't give up stuff.

Thinking: I should go for a run. I haven't worked out in a week (see above mentioned "cooking"). I'm pretty sure I might collapse in a ditch clutching my sugar rotted gut, but I really need to get out there.

Craving: Produce of some kind. Anything to offset this overdose of sugar.

Excited About: Ben's 30th Birthday!!! My husband turns the big 3-0 this Sunday.

Laughing At: Not much lately. I need a good laugh. Quick, someone tell me a joke or a funny anecdote or a clever limerick.

Annoyed With: Michigan. We need a vacation.

Feeling Bad: That I haven't sent my grandpa a thank you note with pictures from our fun-filled Cali week yet (yes, I know I just wrote that we need a vacation. But we need a vacation where all of us are together). Grandpa, if you're reading this, note and pictures are forthcoming.

Missing: Teaching. I visited Will Carleton the other day, and it made me miss my students and the classroom. I don't regret leaving, but I do miss it.

Loving: the weather. It's nice to be outside with Eli and not in this shrinking apartment.

Planning: to go grocery shopping. My poor husband had to eat cereal and popcorn for dinner last night. Granted, we had a late Outback lunch, but still.

Thankful for: Family, friends, and my faith. The Lord has truly blessed our family.

The Parkers head to the Park

2010-04-02T12:13:00.000-04:00

Yesterday was the perfect end to an otherwise stupid week. I got to spend the day with two of my favorite people enjoying the sunshine and the blessings of family. We took Eli on a picnic and to the park. Here are some highlights from our visit. You're welcome.

sweet bliss.

Up, Up and Away

2010-03-14T12:39:00.000-04:00

Eli and I leave on a real life plane this Tuesday morning. We're headed out to Cali for my grandpa's wedding. Now, if you know me at all, you know that the element of the unknown is terrifying for me. For me, right now, that unknown is Eli's behavior on a four hour plane ride. FOUR HOURS!!! This child hates sitting in his high chair for four minutes. Also, he's a bit congested still from his latest cold. So, please pray for us as we wing our way across the country. If anything, we'll be someone's horrible plane story.

Also, if you have any Valium*...

*The Valium would be for me, not my child...and I was joking

The Buried Life

2010-03-13T17:06:00.001-05:00

Let me start this by saying I know that I am not MTV's target audience. I used to be a big Real World fan (until the train wreck that was the Vegas season, or, as I affectionately refer to it, the Sodom and Gomorrah season). I used to watch some other shows (even, gasp, TRL--you know you did, too, Carson Daly lover). I have somewhat glanced at 16 & Pregnant, but 10 minutes of that show has me searching for the nearest ledge.

All this being said, I do not watch MTV. Until a couple months ago. I had just finished watching an adrenaline-filled hour of 24 (oh, Jack Bauer, you and your heavy breathing--why do we always have to hear Jack Bauer breathing hard--even when he's not doing anything physically grueling? Why, Chloe?) and was perusing through the channels when I landed on MTV and caught the opening spot for this show called The Buried Life. The premise for the show is this: these four guys travel around the US trying to scratch off items from their 'bucket lists'. They have compiled a list of 100 things they want to do before they die; some of them are easy-peasy and some of them, not so much. Each episode showcases an attempt to cross an item off their list. The episodes I've seen have included: asking out the girl of your dreams (for this one they had to crash a movie premiere so that one of the guys could ask out Megan Fox), participating in a krump competition, playing basketball with President Obama and throwing a huge party. They don't always succeed, but it's interesting to watch them try.

While the aforementioned is great, my favorite part of the show is what I guess you would call the subplot. During each episode, they try to make the dream of a random stranger come true. For example, tonight's episode, this guy (who had been adopted) wanted to meet his real dad. Last week, they reunited four boyhood friends. Anyway, I think the show is great. Maybe I should say, I think the idea behind the show is great. As someone who's biggest accomplishment lately is showering, the idea of carpe diem is appealing. I love the altruistic element of the show. You can read more about how it got started here.

Anyway, ever since I had Eli, the idea of my own mortality is something that's somewhat pervaded my thoughts. Not in a "I want to find the fountain of youth" kind of way, but in a "Crap, I haven't really done anything to further the kingdom of God" kind of way. I want to be a person that my child/children can point to as an example of a Godly woman. I am blessed to know amazing women who inspire me daily by their purpose-driven lives (sorry for the Rick Warren allusion). I read or hear about the varied ways they are making a difference in their communities/homes/work places/all of the above, and I think, "Perhaps having an alarming knowledge of Friends trivia isn't going to cut it." I've felt this push to do more.

What does more look like? I don't know. Maybe it means being a better mom -- being more creative, less lazy, more selfless. Maybe it means looking for opportunities to serve (without going overboard and burning out). Maybe it means learning how to knit and making booties for every resident in my husband's residence hall. I don't know. (Okay, so maybe the first one is a given.) I know this post may sound completely egocentric, and I really don't mean it to be that way. In fact I know what Ben would say if he read this, "So stop complaining and do something about it."

Man, it's annoying when he's right all the time.

In Town and Around

2010-03-11T11:51:00.000-05:00

These last few days have been glorious as far as weather is concerned. I feel like Eli and I have been hibernating all winter and this wintery thaw has allowed us to come out of our cave--pale skin and all.

What, Spring, you're ready for us to come outside? We.are.ready.

Yesterday, we took a walk to our local public library. Now the next sentence will shock you, especially since I am an English major. But, Internet, I have not had my own public library card since I lived in California, lo these 15 years. Granted, I have had access to the university's library since 1999, but still, everyone should have a public library card. Reading is fundamental. So, we picked up a library card, accidentally logged the library off their computers and checked out a book. We took our friend, Sara's, advice and checked out a Mo Willems book (Knuffle Bunny Too: A Case of Mistaken Identity, a compelling sequel to Knuffle Bunny:A Cautionary Tale). It was the only Mo Willems book they had. (side note: I checked SAU's library catalog and they have six Mo Willems books, so...we may go there next time). And then we headed home...kind of.

Hat: Check; Coat: Check; Drink: Check; Shades: Check

We stopped at the plaza on campus (it's where the clock tower is) and I let Eli get in some exercise. We got to the plaza the same time as a lot of classes were letting out and other classes were starting. So, there were a lot of students around whilst Eli was walking around. Something you should know about Eli is that he is fearless. He's recently taken to walking up to strangers (usually men) and putting his arms up indicating he wants them to pick him up. Awesome. So a student would walk by and he would start following him or her with his hands in the air waiting for said student to pick him up. Only the female students would oblige him. So, next time I need a babysitter, I guess I'll just plunk him down in the middle of campus...I mean someone will pick him up. I.AM.KIDDING. Also, he found every muddy area of grass in the tri-state area and sat down/fell down in it. Awesome again. I knew it was time to go home when he walked up to a bench and laid his head down on it--and kept it there for more than 5 seconds. We quickly stopped in to say hi to grandma Mary and then went home.

My little college student

We saw Sasquatch going for a jog. Hard to tell, but it is him. He frequents the Arbor.

Eli and the Concept: treasures of Spring Arbor

What? I am not heading for that big puddle.

Doing some thinking

Snuggle-pup with grandma

After Eli had his afternoon snack, I eagerly brought out our new library book and began reading it to Eli who, incidentally, could have cared less. I mean my head could have been on fire and I could have transformed into Thomas the train while I was reading to him, and he would not have given me a second look. Who can listen to his mother when Duplos are in the room just waiting to be dumped out of their bucket? I ask you? Anyway, I was giving the story my best voices, and the kid was oblivious. I thoroughly enjoyed it, though. I told Ben he should read it, and he said that he really doesn't like to read a whole book in one day. I mean Goodnight Gorilla is a stretch for him. (side note: I hope that my sarcasm is seeping through enough so that you know that my husband is kidding...he reads to Eli...a lot.)

And the bonus to all this glorious weather, Eli is so tired at the end of the day due to his out-and-about roaming that bedtime is a easy-peasy.

PPO On An Owl

2010-02-28T22:29:00.000-05:00

For Eli's birthday, I bought this owl balloon to go along with the owl theme. Since then, the owl has become a little too comfortable. I'll often wake up in the middle of the night only to see his menacing shadow in our kitchen. Or I'll be coming home and see his crazy eyes peering out at me from our window. Before I go to bed now, I'll move him to a location in the house where I'm sure he will not be seen should I happen to wake up during the night.

Below is a photographic glimpse into our nightmare. I would pop him, but I'm afraid he'd come back to haunt me. I'm just lucky I had a camera on hand to capture the horror.

A futile attempt to entangle my child. Look at Eli take him down.

A view from our bedroom

Waiting for my arrival home

BEHIND YOU!!!

(we don't usually have random guitars or gift bags on our couch)

What? I do not have too much time on my hands.

Rachel's List

2010-02-24T22:59:00.000-05:00

I'm stealing this idea from my gorgeous, brilliant, hilarious friend Rachel. I'm hoping the compliments will soften the plagiarism blow.

Reading: Middlemarch by George Eliot

Listening: A mellifluous mix of Arcade Fire, Ray LaMontagne, Cat Power and Priscilla Ahn

Watching: Modern Family, HGTV, Lost and 24 (and Full House...not going to lie)

Cooking: I made venison tacos the other night.

Eating: Honey Nut Cheerios (the only sweet I'm allowing myself right now)

Wishing: It were summer. Eli and I have some serious cabin fever.

Thinking: I need a haircut. Stat. Also, trying to come up with creative in-door activities to do with a one-year old. Suggestions?

Craving: Hostess cupcakes...sweet, wonderful Hostess cupcakes.

Excited About: flying to California to visit family and attend grandpa's wedding.

Laughing At: Eli's dancing. OH.EM.GEE. He dances to everything right now. He gets this huge grin on his face and starts bopping up and down. Rhythm is gonna get ya.

Annoyed With: Complacency. And belly fat.

Feeling Bad: That I had a frozen pizza for dinner and not the sensible turkey sandwich I was planning to make. Working until 7:30 makes it hard to be sensible for dinner.

Missing: my grandma. Eli pulled one of my treasured Ramona Quimby books from my bookcase, and I opened it up to see my grandmother's handwriting, "Jeanette, I thought you would like this. Love, Grandma. Christmas 1988"

Loving: the movie Whip It. If I didn't cry when I stubbed my toe, I'm pretty sure I'd be rad at roller derby.

Planning: to make brownies for my 'ladies with babies' group tomorrow.

You'll Lose Your Blues in Chicago

2010-02-23T23:17:00.000-05:00

I think Chicago is probably one of my favorite places. Granted, I haven't been anywhere, but I love Chicago. This past weekend my mom, sister and I traveled to Chicago for a couple days to celebrate my and Carrie's birthdays. Most of you won't care about these pictures, but I wanted to post them for Carrie and my mom to see. We had a fun time shopping, gaining back all the weight I've lost and laughing. Here's our weekend in pictures for you visual learners.

Waiting for our train

On our way

Amalfi Hotel (awesome)

Eating at Giordano's

Shopping on State St.

Carrie near the old water tower on Michigan Ave.

Sweet bliss

Fun to come home to

Post Script: We also saw Shutter Island while we were there. It was my first Martin Scorsese film. But I have to say, I really liked it. I should caution you that there is this one scene where you see some prisoners/patients in the buff (the frontal buff). Also, Mark Ruffalo is in it and I think he's great.

Post Post Script: Did you know that the sales tax in Chicago is 10%? I'm sure you did, but WHAT? That's a crime.

Post Post Post Script: If you value your brain, do not see Couples Retreat. We watched it one night in the hotel room, and by the time it ended, I couldn't remember my fact families--that's how much of my brain was damaged by watching such a stupid movie.

Eli at 12 Months

2010-02-15T20:21:00.011-05:00

Eli, Eli-oh. I cannot believe a WHOLE year has gone by. There is so much I could write about how this year has changed me, but I don't think anything would truly capture the experience. Honestly, I still feel like I'm adjusting to mommyhood. I was talking with a friend about a month ago and I admitted that I didn't feel like I was a natural mommy. I'm not sure I was equipped with a mother's intuition. Every time I've gone with my instincts (before you were born), I either made someone mad, said something stupid, embarrassed myself or all of the above. I question my judgment with you all the time. There are times when I ask your father a question about something we should do for you, and he'll look at me and say, "You're the mama." Yikes. Too. Much. Power.

I'm not one of those women who makes her own babyfood (lucky for you) or knits your clothes out of dryer lint. I haven't taught you how to read yet or solve quadratic equations. There are days when we don't leave the apartment (the very tiny apartment). Sometimes I get frustrated with you. I enjoy having moments of alone time. I probably have the t.v. on too much. I worry if I'm stimulating your brain enough. Am I giving you the right foods? Should I be reading you Tolstoy or Faulkner? All this and with a defective instinct mechanism. There is so much I'm unsure of. Except...

Except that I love you. I love you the best I know how. I love you so much that it sometimes brings me to tears. I would throw myself in front of moving traffic for you (standstill traffic would be preferable, but I would do moving). You have taught me a lot about love and selflessness; you have taught me about forgiveness. I feel like you've provided me with a small glimpse into the heart of God. I know the love I have for you is minuscule compared to God's love, but it's an amazing feeling. I don't know if this is enough. Maybe you'll tell your future therapist that your crippling anxiety issues stem from your mother's incessant singing or her insane knowledge of Full House trivia. "Yes, but did she love you?" she'll ask. I hope you can give a resounding yes.

I'm anticipating that the next 17 years are going to fly by based on the warp-speed nature of this first year. I just want to slow time down (sometimes reverse it...I would be so much better at getting you to sleep in your crib the second time around). Each night that I get to rock with you (not the Michael Jackson song), I think about where God is going to lead you. What are his plans for you? And there is this bossy voice in my head that starts telling God what to do. I mean I can't even figure out my camera, and I'm bossing the creator of the universe? And there's the teachable moment. You are going to grow up. You will fall down (both figuratively and literally), and all I can do is make sure you know that you are not alone (wow with the Michael Jackson references). I know what I am writing is somewhat repetitious of previous posts to you, but I don't want you to ever doubt my (or your dad's) love for you. My prayer for you, sweet boy, is that you grow up to be a virtuous, loving man (you have an incredible role model in your father). It's my hope that you pursue a life that is centered around God's will. I know that you are going to make mistakes, you're going to have bad days, you may even wear socks with sandals (gasp). It's okay. One time I wedged your grandparents' van in between two trees. We all do dumb stuff. But I hope you learn from these mistakes and push forward to be the best person you can be.

All photos by Sara Luke

So..kind of deep for a first birthday. Sorry. You will discover that I'm not the most mellow of people. Again, sorry. I hope that year two is as great as year one. You've set the bar pretty high. I mean you already laugh when either your dad or I flatulate (fancy pants way of saying toot). How much more awesome could it get?

(this is a very basic 'video' or photo journey of your first year. not sure if it will work, because I'm somewhat computer illiterate)

Whoooo is Turning One?

2010-02-14T22:56:00.000-05:00

Did you ever see that episode of Friends where Ross and Rachel's little girl, Emma, turns one? As with any sitcom, blunders and hi-jinks abound. There was a mix-up with the cake, which was supposed to be a bunny, and it ends up being X-rated. No one wants to stay for the party, Emma won't wake up from her nap, etc., etc., etc. I kept picturing this episode while planning Eli's first birthday. While I had dreams of accidentally giving everyone salmonella poisoning with undercooked chicken wings or not being ready for the party, I can say that the day exceeded my expectations. In the company of family, our little boy celebrated an exciting first birthday.

What was the theme, you ask? (Oh...you didn't ask...) I had an owl theme. I know it sounds weird, but it was much cuter than it sounds. Eli has this super cute owl shirt (you can see it here), and I thought I could do a party based around this shirt. My friend Sara (whose Etsy shop you can see here) made adorable invitations. And I found some other cute owl-themed items on Etsy, including stickers and cupcake toppers. I also found an owl balloon online (b/c I could not find one anywhere in Jackson) and some owl ribbon at Michael's. I was out of control with the owl stuff.

these are owl stickers that I made everyone wear (b/c I'm bossy)

(there were more than four cupcakes, but I forgot to take a picture of them all)

I made chicken wings to go with our theme (let's see if you can figure that out without me having to write on the Internet how I made the decision to serve chicken wings). I also had a jar of tootsie-roll pops (b/c of their owl mascot). I decided to go with cupcakes for Eli's induction into the world of diabetes-inducing food. My first batch of cupcakes tasted like popcorn (because I accidentally bought butter-flavor cupcakes. What?! Who wants butter-flavored cupcakes?). Luckily, I bought a box of normal flavor cupcakes and made those after discovering my butterific blunder. Eli INHALED his cupcake. I mean, it was a new world record in the one-year old division. It was cute (until his stomachache caused him to wake up several times throughout the night).

It was a great day spent with great people! Here are some more pictures for your viewing pleasure. (You're welcome.)

("where's my next cupcake, fool?")

Happy Birthday, sweet boy!

28, I Hardly Knew Thee...

2010-02-09T00:26:00.000-05:00

I turned 29 last Thursday. TWENTY-NINE! Next year, I turn 20-10, better known as thirty. Twenty-eight was mostly consumed with Elijah. It was also the year of minimal showering and record-breaking leg hair (I'll let you swallow the bile that just came up). Needless to say it came and went in a flash. It was one of my favorite years (since one of my favorite people came into the world) and it was one of the most challenging and discouraging years I have ever endured. (Wow, Charles Dickens, way to be paradoxical.)

Anyway...back to birthday. Ben has always been great about birthdays. I mean I don't think he wants a repeat of marriage year one when I burst into tears at the end of the day because *sob* he DIDN'T DECORATE THE HOUSE!!! Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I cried because my husband, who bought me a present, took me to dinner, etc. did not decorate our house. I'm not sure why he didn't get in his car and drive to the nearest divorce attorney and/or have me committed. In college, my roommates would always decorate the house for each girl's birthday, and so I just assumed he would grow a uterus and be sensitive to this tradition. I am a crazy woman. I told him this year he didn't have to decorate, which he verified several times and then had a notary bear witness to my statement. I just didn't want Eli to get into stuff.

I woke up to two cards (from my boys), a box of hot tamales and a box of junior mints (it's a junior mint), and two wee bottles of coke (some of my favorite things.) **side note: I gave up pop for the new year, but I allowed myself the empty calories for my birthday...it was carbonated bliss.** Then my mom called and played The Beatles' Birthday Song--one of my favorite family traditions. Later in the day, fellow RD friends, Anna, Carrie and Mallary brought me some daisies (another favorite). Then, Ben took me to buy new running shoes and then to dinner at Cottage Inn (another favorite). Later that night, my dear sister-in-law came over to watch Eli whilst Ben and I went to a movie. We went out...on a date...to a place where we didn't have our child with us...on a date. It was great! We held hands and everything. We saw Book of Eli...go out and see it right now. It was a great movie! I had a lot of great birthday wishes from friends! It was a great day.

Birthday extravaganza continued into Friday when my parents took me to the Parlour for delicious, cellulite-inducing food. On Saturday, I met one of my dearest friends, Jennifer, in Ann Arbor for shopping and talking. I love and miss her! You know you have a good friend when she helps you change your child's poopy diaper in a public restroom. And finally, the weekend ended with an ACT tutoring session at Sylvan and Super Bowl fun with the Hunts. Megan and I didn't really watch it, but it sounded like a Super good time. (Yikes, I'm a nerd.)

This week I'm gearing up for Eli's FIRST BIRTHDAY!!! Did you hear me? He's ONE YEAR OLD! He's one year closer to resenting me for not letting him date that girl with the tongue piercing.

(I had pictures ready to post, but the Internet is being a db. So I may edit later on to post said pictures.)

Lost? (warning: if you're waiting to watch last night's episode on TiVo this weekend, don't read.)

2010-02-03T13:44:00.000-05:00

Okay, so episodes of Lost often stick with me long after the final blackout. Last night's episode was no exception. And while I am a nerd about Lost, I can't bring myself to join one of those on-line forums with some handle like, 'lostfanelimom'. Not that I've thought about it or anything. So, I thought maybe if I post some of my questions from last night, people who know me and also love Lost might have answers or speculations. If not, I've just upped my nerd factor exponentially, b/c a.) I'm using my blog to post questions about a t.v. show and b.) it will appear like I have no friends.

So here we go:

1. So what happened to the monster's body? I mean how was he able to shift into Locke? Didn't he have his own body like Jacob?

2. Why was Jacob able to be killed? Isn't he a spiritual presence? And why couldn't Locke-monster do it?

3. What's up with the flash-sideways storylines? According to Juliet via Miles, they succeeded...so what's going on?

4. Why would Claire still be going to LA. Wouldn't the psychic see she wasn't going to crash. I mean isn't that why he told her to go in the first place...b/c he knew she wouldn't make it?

5. Where did Desmond go on the plane?

6. Is Sayid Jacob now?

7. What's up with the protective ash?

8. Who's the kung-fu looking guy at the temple?

9. So, every time we saw Christian, was he actually Jacob or the monster guy?

10. Where's Christian's body?

Okay, it felt good to get those off my chest. Now I'll have some extra space in my brain to think about important things, like where the Jersey Shore cast should tape their next season. (Just kidding, I don't watch that show...*cough*)

Purple

2010-01-25T22:33:00.000-05:00

blue + red

equals

P U R P L E

i'm not crazy...click here for proof

The Day the Fire Brigade Went on Strike

2010-01-22T15:52:00.001-05:00

So, I bought Eli these two shirts from this place for Christmas. I ordered them probably the first week of December, and I received a package from them on the 15th of December. However, instead of two cute baby tees, I received two XL woman's tees. One of them was actually fitting for me as it was a screen print of literary characters. However, as I am not XL (yet) and did not need two mildly amusing screen print tees, I did not have any use for the obviously mixed up order. I was a little frustrated, b/c I knew that I wasn't going to be able to give these shirts to Eli for Christmas. Think how upset he would be when he wasn't able to open ANOTHER present that contained t-shirts he could care less about. Just think of it. Doesn't your heart weep?

Okay, so not really a big deal...just frustrating. So, I emailed customer service to see what would be the best plan of action. They were immediate in their apologetic response, and told me to send the wrong shirts back (they would refund the shipping) and they would send the proper order, along with a coupon for my next purchase. I sent the shirts back on the 17th. And waited. And waited. Then silently fumed about the mistreatment I was enduring. I mean this had to be next to impoverished orphans and the unclean drinking water crisis on the list of horrible issues our world is facing, right? I mean I waited 2...TWO weeks to hear back from this place. Imagine the human suffering. My child who has more clothes than will fit in his closet and dresser was going without 2, TWO more unnecessary shirts.

So, I emailed the company about a week and a half ago just to see what was the deal with my return. They again promptly emailed me back and apologized for the delay, and assured me my order would be shipped out within the next few days. They also gave me $5 off my next order and refunded my shipping money.

The shirts arrived today, and they are so adorable:

I can't wait for Eli to not give these a second look. At least his mama gets excited about trivial things.

Side note: The love I have in my heart for HGTV has just infinitely multiplied. I love reading this woman's blog (I ~~stole her idea~~ was inspired by her idea of posting monthly newsletters to her daughter). And now she has a show on HGTV...sweet tv bliss.

industrious

2010-01-18T16:30:00.002-05:00

Play along...read about it here.

Walk This Way - Eli at 11 months

2010-01-17T13:17:00.002-05:00

This time last year I was looking very similar to a beached whale. I couldn't get enough of people telling me I looked tired, swollen, like I was going to pop and the incessant staring. Now here we are. People still tell me I look tired and swollen, but the staring is more directed at your insane cuteness--and those dimples, yowza! You, my precious boy, are nearly a year old. A whole year! We've had the pleasure of your out-of-utero company for eleven months. This has been a month of milestones. You have become so much more independent. And while I love to watch you explore, I can't help but want to keep you little and protected. Alas, my work in the lab has not produced an anti-aging serum...so here we go.

Well, the big thing is your ever-increasing mobility. You are definitely walking about 90% of the time now. It's amazing to see you go. When you were a wee baby, I would look at you and say, "I don't see how this little boy will be rolling...crawling...walking."

Dr. Gardner would have to agree that you rank high in the bodily-kinesthetic intelligence. You seem to be fearless in your exploration. You continue to crawl/walk through, under, over anything in your path. One night I was getting your tubby ready, and your giddiness for your impending bath could not be contained and you hoisted yourself almost into the tub. I say almost, because if I hadn't been there to reign in your excitement, you would have earned your diving merit badge. You also love taking our pots and pans out of the cabinet and climbing in. And then there are stairs. You can't get enough of them. We have stairs that lead from the hallway outside our apartment to the lounge area that you are completely enamored with (the stairs...sorry for the dangling modifier). You have learned to climb up and down them. You definitely have an adventurous spirit, which is great! You did NOT inherit that from me.

You've also become very social. When I'm at work on Monday and Wednesday nights, your dad will take you out to the lounge for your social hour. He told me that the other night you two were in the upstairs lounge, and there was this group of girls sitting at a table studying. You would act like you were going to go over to talk to them, but would chicken out. Finally, you were able to muster up the courage to walk all the way over to them. I hear they were instantly under your spell. The next day as we were walking from Lowell to the student center, these same girls shouted your name from their window. You're such a celebrity. You love people, which, again, is something you did not inherit from me. Not to say I don't love people, but I remember the pole that held up the roof was my best friend during recess for the first couple weeks of ~~college~~...ummm kindergarten.

Playing Skip-Bo with some friends

Among your social milestones, my favorite would have to be your delight in giving kisses. I hope that you refine the skill before you have your first kiss (when you're 25), because right now you give a kiss with your mouth open and the drool flowing. A couple weeks ago, your gammy Rick was sad about something, and when she walked in the door, you went right up to her and gave her a kiss. It made her day (and mine). It's completely adorable. Your favorite person to give kisses to is your daddy. He is also your favorite snuggle buddy. He'll be laying on the floor in the living room and you'll just walk over to him and lay your head on top of his. Don't worry, I don't feel left out...I'm your preferred consoler (not a word) when you fall down and/or are grumpy.

Giving gma Parker kisses

You celebrated your first Christmas this past month. I was bracing myself for cataclysmic mood swings from you due to a very messed up schedule during the week of Christmas, but, again, you were very mellow about everything. Again, not a trait inherited from me. I was rocking back and forth in a corner after Christmas due to my messed up schedule. It looks like Fisher Price exploded in our living room which is always great for an uptight person like your mother. Don't worry, I'm currently devising an organization plan to help reduce my panic attacks.

All these toys, and you'd rather play with the dvd cases

More than all the toys, you seemed to love being around your family. You definitely thrive when you're able to be social. I mean you could be spewing fire and shouting curses in my general direction one second, and then someone new walks in the room and you go all Pollyanna. It was great to see you connect with your great-grandpa, your uncle, your cousins, everybody!

And now, the moment you've all been waiting for...an update on Eli's sleep. I told myself that we would master your sleep during Christmas break. All the students would be gone, your dad would be home during the day. However, the best laid plans...Actually, we seemingly mastered sleep the week students moved back in to the building. One night, you would just not go to sleep. Well, you did go to sleep at your normal bed time, but then woke up at 10:00 ready to head to Vegas to try your luck at Blackjack. So, in a huff of frustration, I calmly laid you in your bed, told you I loved you and...WALKED OUT OF THE ROOM. And you started crying. BUT I STAYED OUT OF THE ROOM. I laid in bed, calculating how much I'd have to spend on therapy for you because of this traumatic moment. And then...you stopped crying. I turned to your dad and asked, "Have I gone deaf?" You just stopped...ten minutes of crying, and you went to sleep. Not only that, but you stayed asleep until 6:30 the next morning. The next night you did the same thing. I laid you in your crib at 8:00, you cried for a few minutes and then went to sleep, and AND you didn't get up once during the night. It was bliss. I actually started living like a normal human being. I was alert, energized, not a threat behind the wheel. It was miraculous.

Then, I opened my big fat mouth to the Internet, and a minion of the devil saw fit to end our streak. My friend Sara posted this about things bloggers should never do, like claim victory over something out loud. I cannot believe I said out loud, to people that you were sleeping through the night. A week into our wakeless sleep, you got sick. It was actually very sad. Remember this post when I was all "my child never gets sick." Your mother is an idiot. (Don't say idiot). You came down with a fever that peaked at 103. It lasted four days, and our blissful 8 hours of sleep waved bye-bye. We'll keep trying. Last night was your first night fever-free, and we were definitely back at square one.

Aaaanyway, as you can read (someday) it's been a very eventful month. I'm sorry for the epic-like length of this post. It was written in iambic-pentameter at first, but I thought I'd save you from that misery. I'm sure my faithful readers (thanks, mom) ditched this post about three paragraphs back, but that's okay. I don't want to forget a moment of your amazing life. You have grown up so quickly. I feel like your first year has been a blur. I am so thankful for the love and happiness you've added to our home (I mean we had love and happiness before, but you've added to it exponentially). You are the best thing. I love you lots, my precious boy.