Friday Photo Dump

We had a busy weekend following our favorite author's birthday, but did squeeze in a few fun ways to celebrate Seuss -- a Dr. Seuss-inspired muffin-tin lunch following Ninja Zone, and an Seussical snack mix for a Friday night movie night.  Cruz also had a fun week of Dr. Seuss events at school, including a crazy sock Monday, wacky day Wednesday, and pajama day on Friday.  They taste-tested green eggs and ham with Mrs. W., and had fun drawing pictures of our latest favorite, What Pet Should I Get.   

We got to meet our newest little cousin, Olivia, a few weeks ago and were all pretty smitten with her tiny little self.  The kids fought over who got to hold her, and each did such a great job being so gentle and sweet.  We sure wish Rob and Jill still lived in town, but now have a good excuse to get on I-80 a little more often.

March always calls for the perfect reason to revisit our big red hardcover collection of Dr. Seuss stories.  Beau has fond memories of reading Yertle the Turtle with his Grandma J., and it's become a favorite for Cruz as well.  The other day, he grabbed a piece of paper out of are little art cart and drew a detailed illustration that basically retold the entire story.  It's on the fridge now, but I have plans to frame it and hang it up in our future craft room downstairs.  

The morning we started the potty training thing.  The kids wore their furry Christmas Eve boots of and on all weekend.  I won't show you the picture that followed this one of sweet Mila pulling her nightie over her head to show off her brand new purple undies. :)

Late Sunday afternoon crafting at the kitchen table.  We received a half year supply of Kiwi and Koala Crates for Christmas from Aunt Gina and Uncle Gabe and the kids absolutely love unleashing the magic within each box.  This time, we made balloon powered cardboard cars, and painted washi-taped canvases. 

A Sunday afternoon nap in our bed, with her $3.48 pink bunny Mila picked out as her very first potty prize.  We often let her nap in our bed on the weekends, in large part so we can take turns slipping in beside her.

Beau and I took a rode trip to Des Moines a few weekends ago.  I spent over an hour in Anthropologie all by myself, we had lunch at Zombie Burger, and brought home this beauty for our office.  It's the last room to get furnished and all I have left is an old upright piano I can paint and repurpose.  If you know anyone looking to get rid of one, I'm in the market for something like this. 

We ordered another week of Plated meals and enjoyed a whole wheat pizza with figs, caramelized onions, and taleggio cheese, a smoky eggplant and lentil Indian dish served with garlic naan, and a green salad with roasted veggies and warm, panko crusted goat cheese.  Needless to say, we've been eating good lately. :)

And last but not least, Mila Carys, with a pink lolly in her new Spring outfit from Great Grandma and Grandpa.  We spotted a robin in our little tree out back and talked about bird nests and baby blue eggs.  And then Cruz asked why all babies don't hatch out of eggs and I changed the subject to Batman stuff.  Worked like a charm. :)

Happy weekend, happy March Madness, happy SPRING (it's around here somewhere!)

Cruz Man

For three months, I've been jotting down little notes about you, snippets of things I want to record and never forget as I watch you grow up faster than I can sometimes keep up with.  You're changing lately, Cruz, maturing and finding yourself through new interests and knowledge, getting ready for the big kindergarten this fall.  And while it's true that I do miss those years of babyhood with you, your rough-and-tumble attitude, linebacker build, and wispy blonde hair, God just keeps working and giving me new things to love even more than the day before. Some of my favorite parts of the day include picking you up from school and hearing all the things you learned and discovered, thanks to one amazing teacher, and then watching you apply that new learning here at home.  Yesterday, you told me you "wearned" about all things leprechaun -- that little leprechauns leave a lot of mischief around the house and that they're very hard to catch.  You said that Mrs. W. helped every kid in the class bend over backwards to kiss a class version of the Blarney Stone, but that you missed it because we were on a "bacation" (we went to the Iowa Children's Museum).  And you were pretty concerned this morning over the fact that you didn't have green pants to go with your green shirt, socks, and new shoes with a green Nike swish.  A little boy who used to be so nonchalant about life that I wondered sometimes if anything stuck, now picks up on and cares about the details, and seems to reveal every day how much is stored in that little head of his.

You're growing up, without a doubt, showing courage, wit, and an occasional loss of innocence that makes me hurt and smile big all at the same time.  You finally decided to start riding a bike this spring, a big feat being that you wanted nothing to do with it the past few summers.  Now, with your tongue out just like your daddy used to do, you concentrate and push those little legs and have found seamlessly easy success.  You've got just enough of your mommy's fear in you, paired with a good bout of your daddy's adventurous spirit, and once you finally jump off the ledge, it seems you pick things up pretty easily.

The same held true at Ninja Zone, your most recent Saturday morning adventure.  You caught me a little off guard with this, expressing nervousness and initial fear of not being able to do the things the other kids would do.  And when the very first station your first morning was a somersault, I started to wonder if we had made a mistake signing you up.  As I stood and peeked around the corner of the waiting area, trying really hard to not look like the overbearing parent, it was the first time I had ever seen you nervous.  As you watched the other boys tumble down the mat with your hands stuck in the pockets of your mesh shorts, I saw the tears well up in your eyes and my first instinct was to go in and rescue you.  But then, as the coach knelt down beside you and asked if you knew how to do one, I watched you blink those tears away and step up to the plate, trying all the brand new moves and never giving up.  My heart swelled as I watched you try and try again, and we cheered big when it finally clicked and you did that somersault dang near perfectly.  You skipped out the building that day and have loved going back every Saturday since.  Signs of a true ninja. :)

When you're not being a ninja, conquering those somersaults and monkey bar flips with ease, you're showing off some budding talents and skills that your daddy and I love.  You love to draw, love to build, and love practicing letter sounds and early reading skills.  The details you put in your drawings are downright adorable, like the beard you drew on your leprechaun yesterday, or the Dr. Seuss details you add in all your illustrations to his books.  You've been on a Dr. Seuss kick lately, and have been drawing illustrations to go with the words daddy reads to you.  Then, you explain your drawings, and we can't believe the details you pick up on, small things we even miss while reading.  You love writing words, and this week, we started reading little BOB Books before bed, where you seem to pick up on early phonics easily.  Embarking on this new reading adventure is going to be so much fun with you.  

Your Lego builds are my favorite, though.  At first, you wanted to stick to the instructions and needed a lot of assistance, however, you've evolved to master builder, and have found a lot more fun in creating your own buildings, vehicles, playgrounds, and inventions.  You spend a good chunk of time either drawing or building, although you've always been so very good at play.  I love to watch you get lost in your toys and dream up fascinating worlds with your imagination.

And while it seems you're maturing and revealing a serious side to you lately, let's not forget your silly, and oftentimes, squirrly side that's always been a prominent part of who you are.  You are definite boy in many respects - the way you spout of "tooty butt" lingo to your daddy and Papa Curt, your love of swords, nerf guns, and power bombs on the bed, and a little note on your preschool progress report that alluded to your silly behavior with a few friends in class.  You rarely pass up on an opportunity to find humor in something, and I have a feeling you will be surrounded by friends, and run into a few issues with teachers along the way.  You have a lot of friends, and you are kind, sweet, and loving to them, a characteristic I pray always stays a part of who you are.

And you dance like nobody's watching!  Thanksgiving weekend, we attended a family wedding in Iowa City, to which you formed quite a bond with your extended cousin, Eli.  The two of you cut a rug on the dance floor for HOURS, and were in your own little world most of the night.  My favorite part of the night, though, involved a little run in with the cute blond running the photo booth.  We did the photo booth as a family earlier that night, and you must have decided later on that you wanted to get some pictures taken by yourself.  We watched as the women told you that you had to find an adult to be photographed with.  You walked away, only to return later, put on a simple black top hat and glasses, then stand in front of the camera posing until she finally caved and took your four snaps.  We helped you tape them in Will and Stacy's guestbook, sign your name, and stowed the duplicate in my purse for safe keeping.  I ADORE these four pictures of you so much.

You were made to be a big brother, and have seamlessly filled that role with patience, grace, and love from the very first day you met your spitfire sister.  You let her pour cup after cup of water over your head in the bathtub, deal with hours of Dora on TV when you'd really prefer Ninja Turtles, and never get bent out of shape when she breaks a lego tower or rips through another crayon box.  You just love her.  

You are sweet, silly, sensitive, and kind, a staller at the dinner table, and a snuggler before bed.  You get teary at the end of Disney movies, clean your plate when I promise you dessert, and love to take showers and sing your heart out.  You still love your comfy pants, still love Bruno Mars' Uptown Funk You Up, and prefer milk and water to juice because they're "heafier for you."  With just two months lefts before you "graduate" preschool, we are counting our blessings and thanking our lucky stars for the little boy you are.  

Mila the Big Girl

I think of all the milestones a little person undergoes in their first few years, learning to potty is my least favorite.  Unlike so many of the milestones that happen naturally - getting that first tooth, taking those first steps, even sleeping through the night, potty training takes so much effort on the parents' end...and it's so unpredictable...and sometimes, it just sounds easier to change diapers.  But, after experiencing unexpected success with ridding our house of Mila's precious paci earlier this year, we decided to capitalize on our momentum, keep our calendar wide open last weekend, and try this potty thing out, simply to see how our girl would do.  I did my best to give up control of how things would go, planned to celebrate the little successes, and not expect a single thing.  It was a simple, "let's see how this goes" weekend, and I had every intention of sending her to school this week with diapers and plans to try again soon. 

Oh, ye of little faith. :)

Friday afternoon, I went to Copy Works and printed a free Princess Potty Chart to hang up by Mila's little potty chair.  I bought some new pink stickers, some celebratory jelly beans, and a pack of little Hanes panties.  Don't get me started on these adorable little panties.  I organized a little potty station in the bathroom, knowing the only way my headstrong little lady would buy in to any of this would be through attention, praise, and lots of pretty things.  We went for a walk at the park after school, to which Mila worked up quite a thirst, downing an entire bottle of Bug Juice on the way home.  Turns out, this was not the best way to initiate the potty thing, as I'm pretty sure Mila peed every twenty minutes for the next three hours - a few times in her potty, to which we celebrated relentlessly, but most of the time straight through the entire pack of her brand new Hanes panties.  About an hour after I initiated the start of potty weekend, I caught Beau shaking his head from the kitchen with a look on his face that screamed quitter, and I pointed my finger at him and said, NOT YET!  We put her to bed (in a diaper), I started a load of laundry, then made a late night trip to Wal-Mart for not-so-princess-potty essentials, including some carpet cleaner, a package of pull-ups, and two new packs of (adorable) panties. 

Saturday we woke up to a completely different story.  What started in the morning as marches to the potty every 15-20 minutes, soon evolved into visits every hour, and by the end of the day, Mila was telling us when she had to go.  She filled up an 18 slot potty chart by the time she went to bed Saturday night, without one recorded accident.  She even pooed on her potty, AND woke up dry from her nap, two HUGE milestones that I seriously couldn't believe on her first full day of trying this thing out.  It all seemed to click with her so fast and just like I expected, she thrived on the attention and the big girl accolades she received.  It became this family affair all weekend, the four of us gathered in the bathroom nearly every time, singing the potty song Beau wrote for her, Cruz helping her get the sticker off her sheet, and me tackling the rest of the business, of course.  Our weekend, that at first seemed so dull and daunting, turned into this sweet little unexpected lens into everything I love about this stage in our life.  Mila in her little dresses, sitting like a pro on her potty, usually holding a baby doll, staring at me with a look of such concentration, then her blue eyes lighting up with another success.  The endless "Mila, do you have to go potty?" questions, often followed by high-pitched squeals and tippy-toe runs to the bathroom, usually with Cruz not too far behind.  And my heart, swelled up with pride and adoration for these sweet little souls that are too smart for their own good.

Mila has continued to take on this potty thing like a seasoned champ.  She wore undies to church Sunday morning, to school Monday, and hasn't had an accident yet.  Today, we ventured to Iowa City to play at the Children's Museum, and Mila conquered an hour and a half car ride, public restrooms, and automatic hand driers without an ounce of fear.  It's so funny, she walks with an even bigger bounce in her step than before, and seems to embrace her new big girl status in ways I didn't know a two year old could comprehend.  She showed us, and this potty training thing, that it's got nothing on her.  She's a force to be reckoned with. :)

It's funny, but I didn't expect to feel so much about my little girl learning to go potty this weekend.  Suddenly, she just looked so much older to me, and I started to see this little window into all these milestones we're going to hit along the way, all accompanied with that deep sense of love, pride, and adoration for who she is and who she will become.  Potty, preschool, prom, permits, it's all important, and she'll handle it all in a way that'll be just right.

But hopefully not always with a princess potty chart. :)

              

11/52

"a portrait of each of my children, once each week, in 2016"

Cruz: A bike, a somersault, and a flip on the monkey bars, all in one week.  Watching him gain some courage and step out of his comfort zone the last week has been such a joy for me.  I told Beau on a walk tonight that it seems both babes are growing up before my very eyes, especially lately.  I can't handle it! 

Mila: My blue eyed blondie grew up in such a big way this weekend, and I am so very proud of her.  She's one smart cookie and one very big girl.  She'll earn her own post this week to share all about it.  

TGI...SPRING BREAK

What better way to kick off warmer weather, March Madness, and Spring Break week than with a little dancing?!?  My boy knows how to bust a move.

Happy Spring, everyone! 

On being a (working) mom...

 "I think every working mom probably feels the same thing: you go through big chunks of time where you're just thinking, "this is impossible, oh this is impossible."  And then you just keep going and keep going and you sort of do the impossible."

-Tina Fey

Yesterday was International Women's Day, a day that has been recognized for over a hundred years to celebrate acts of courage and determination of ordinary women doing their part to better our workplaces, our schools, our communities, and our globe.  And while my mark on the world is quite minuscule in comparison to women all over this globe completing acts of courage and bravery that go unheard of every day, I've been doing a little of my own celebrating this week, and thinking awfully hard about what it exactly it means to be a woman in this world of ours.  Last week was a big week for me.  December 1st, I turned in five two-ring binders filled to the brim with artifacts and evidence for tenure at UNI.  For the past six years, I have been observed and evaluated by my peers, poured myself into committee and service across campus, and presented at conferences, wrote articles, and saved every important email, meeting agenda, and artifact that demonstrates my worth as a faculty member at this university.  It's been a long road, one filled with many changes, fears, and politics, but one that I've been committed to journey on for many reasons.  

Last Monday, I checked my campus mailbox and found a letter from our Provost, informing me that my tenure had been approved.  As I read the letter over and over (and over) again, seeing the words, "a validation of excellence in your profession," and "sincere congratulations and appreciation for your work that has merited this advancement in your career," I felt like I was soaring.  I spent the rest of the day working on a three-hour presentation I was to give in my night class the following Thursday, on a topic I knew little about but was encouraged by my professor.  It was focused on the research methodology of critical discourse analysis, an area of expertise of his, which further intimidated me for fear I wouldn't do it justice.  After assigning us our areas, he followed up in an email and said that although it would be the most difficult area of research, he had faith that I was fully equipped to take it on.  This confidence pushed me once again and I spent weeks reading, preparing, and perfecting.  It couldn't have gone better, and as he sat in the back of the classroom, closing his eyes, nodding his head, and even giving me a few thumbs up, I once again felt like I was flying.  

After class that night, I drove home around 9:30 feeling like I was on top of the world.  It was easily one of the most worthwhile weeks of my professional life, and I felt strong and confident as a woman.  And then, about halfway home, I felt it creep in and hit me like a ton of bricks.  My kids were in bed, I hadn't seen them all day, and I felt that familiar, all-too-frequent deep deep mom guilt settle into my bones.  I missed them, felt awful for not seeing them, and suddenly felt my worth as a woman, and especially as a mom, plummet.

The rest of the night, I thought about critical discourse analysis and used this new body of knowledge to make sense of the way I was feeling (signs of a good doc. student).  Critical discourse analysis is the study of "text" in our world.  These texts can be anything - the media, conversations with people, Instagram posts and Facebook feeds, i.e., anything that we encounter, read, and use to make sense of the world around us.  Critical discourse analysis, then, is the study of how these texts have truth effects, and are used to communicate and ultimately create issues of power and control.  Most of these truths are consumed inherently, but are wildly impactful on the way we view and ultimately judge others and ourselves.  When these texts become frequent and fluent, they create meta-narratives of our world, ideologies that rank, separate, construct, and sadly, destruct.   

Being a "working mother" is a meta-narrative, largely constructed throughout history with many so-called truths surrounding it.  When I fell into this identity five years ago, I bought into the whole socially constructed meta-narrative that told me I couldn't do both roles well.  I read blogs of women who made the choice to quit their jobs and stay home because they wanted to focus on being a mom, read updates from mom's groups that met every Wednesday morning to form a community and find common ground, and I felt like an outsider and ultimately like I was doing it wrong.  All I ever wanted to be was a mom, and now, I was somehow less of a mom because I worked outside the home.  This meta-narrative, perpetuated even more so today with social media, is a wildly constructed ideology that speaks truth to women every single day, and causes us to think and live in a false reality.  And it's damaging if we don't learn to see it for what it is.  For years, I suppressed my work life because I thought it sent the impression that I wasn't a good mom.  In this dual identity role, I realize now that I saw them as conflicting with one another, instead of co-existing to create one imperfect, but complete woman, and mother. 

While I can't do much to change the meta-narrative that's shaping society, it is my job to write the narrative of our family.  And that starts with me.  Instead of focusing on what I'm not, it's about focusing on what I am.  I want my kids, especially my daughter, to grow up knowing that without a doubt, I was their mom, but that I was also a woman, and a strong, independent, and smart one at that.  I want them to remember pictures of me playing with them, and baking cookies, and reading them books, rubbing their tummies, and singing them songs before bed, but also images of me staying up late writing papers, talking through big presentations, and celebrating tenure.  I want them to see the value in always learning, see me rising to occasions, see me fail and try again, and be inspired when I soar.  No matter what they choose to do with their lives, I want them to do their very best, and value their own worth by how they feel instead of how society tells them to feel.  This is true for all people, especially women, whether they work or stay home, have babies or don't have babies, run companies or work for them.  We can't escape the big narratives that want to control and define us, but we can write our own of how we respond to it.  

As with all things motherhood, I learn and unlearn as I go.  And while there's no handbook for how to do it all right, I am learning to embrace my roles and be proud of what each role does for the other.  They don't conflict, but co-exist, and everyday I pray I can put it all together with ambition and grace and a deep mothering love that empowers my babies to do the same. 

10/52

"a portrait of each of my children, once each week, in 2016"

Cruz: Started a new adventure on Saturday known as Ninja Zone.  He looked pretty boss in his head band, and while he's got a little work to do on mastering the somersault, he was the fastest army crawler in his group. :)

Mila: This little spitfire had a sleepover at Grandma Mary's this weekened.  Her Great Grandma Sanders brought her a wooden baby bed that used to belong to Beau's mom, along with the cutest vintage suitcase full of handmade baby clothes.  She was in heaven!