The Blank Slate

Freelance

2009-01-02T19:32:00.000-08:00

What is that? It has the word free in it so it must be good. There's nothing like feeling free. Freedom. My lovely Janis Joplin always sang, "Freedom's just another word for nothing left to lose." Even put that way it must be good.

This new freelance thing. It's a bit scary. I'm not sure I can continue my babysteps and freelance at the same time. I'm too black and white. I'm all or nothing.

Luckily, I'm able to really enjoy and appreciate the time I spend writing and I haven't quite begun freelance writing yet.

So I think I'll stay here for a little while longer. The blogosphere is a fantastic and a wonderful place but with so many facets. Some I like and some I fear.

In any case. I'm going to write. I have an actual deadline for an article.

Bonsoir.

Safe Havens

2008-11-18T08:18:00.000-08:00

We all have our places where we can go either figuratively or literally to feel safe. For some of us it is a place that's easily accessible and we live our day primarily in a safe place whereas for others it's only a state of mind or a brief moment that is not easy to get to.

I am writing from a place of privilege. I'm a minority only by being a woman. I have shelter, a healthy family, a supportive and thriving extended family, and the means to provide well for them. However, I still feel like the world I present to my kids and my family isn't the right one. We're living in a time and a culture of frenzy. I often feel like I was born in the wrong era. I think the hard hands-on work of being a pioneer woman is more "me". Yes, I wouldn't have modern medicine, a car and all the "luxuries" of my life, but when I really look at those luxuries (except maybe modern medicine) I would happily trade them to be able to feel that I'm living my life and living life as a family without feeling that we've been tied to a horse and dragged through it.

I know I would also miss a lot of the freedoms that women have now and definitely modern plumbing. Truth be told, I actually like camping and going to the bathroom en plein air (unless my father is there to yell "Bull!" after having passed a fenced in bull minutes before). I think it would be the fact that everyone else also uses the same facilities, or lack thereof that would bother me.

Back to safe havens. I'm thinking about this because for so long I have thought that with both women and men working full time jobs in many families that we have not found a solution for the children of these families. We don't take into account that every family needs caretakers and it's not an "on the side" kind of job. Our grandparents and parents age and our children, in sickness and in health, need us as they grow. Not only are our families spread out across the nation and the globe, but our time is spent at work, thinking about work, getting to work, and unwinding from work. With the recent Safe Haven law in Nebraska catching everyone off guard, a spotlight has been placed on families who have abandoned children that they have raised for up to 17 years. On the news you hear how shocked and horrified people are that children (not infants) are being given up. But if you think about the cost of medical care in this country, the lack of support for families of children with special needs in many parts of the country, and the pressures of every day life, I don't think it would be too hard to imagine. Take your life and start stripping away some of the privileges you may have (health, a job, health insurance, a home, family/friends to support you, a car or public transportation, food for your family, self confidence, dignity)add a child or several children and perhaps one tragedy (loss, mental health problems, addiction, medical problem, ailing family members) and you can quickly see that a difficult life could become unbearable.

As I said before, I am writing from a place of privilege. My country and state allows me to be married. I have all I need, and more, for a good life, but still I don't think I provide a safe haven or the kind of safe haven I would like for my family to have. I don't like that my children see their parents over-tired and worn out more often than not. It's ironic because it's their lack of sleep at the moment that is pushing the envelope on that front. I think we have to slow down and adjust our priorities a little bit. It's hard when the rest of the city and the rest of the country, and more and more the rest of the world is moving at hurricane speed around you, but I think it's important for me and for us to find a way to spend at least a good portion of our time in the eye of the storm. My goal this "holiday season" is to start trudging towards that calm still place. I'm going to try to bring as many people with me as I can, but I won't be able to do it alone.

On the food front, I'd like to have more family meals. The children love holiday meals because we're all together and we sit together and enjoy our food together. We'll never have every dinner together, that's not realistic for us, but we could try to have as many weekend meals together as possible and perhaps one or two during the week.

On the home front, it's going to take longer and it might not be perfect, but including the kids in the gardening, cooking, and house projects is the best way to get things done right now.

We'll see how it goes.

Running: Part II

2008-10-22T18:48:00.001-07:00

I've never been great a keeping a diary. I loved the idea, but it just never happened. I think having a journal or scrapbook is such a nice thing to have, but it just isn't me. I have random poems and snippets of written stuff all over the house, but it is not consistent. Now, I easily realise something that I've known for a long time: I run from myself. Having children has made it more difficult to escape this fact. I have always kept a busy schedule. I thrive off of that. And in fact, I believe that I need that. I don't have any deep dark secrets or a terrible past that I'm running from. I just can't function when it's about me. It being anything. I'm learning slowly to take things for myself, but I'm not very good about it yet.

What I need most is time and space and to be perfectly honest being mom of two young children and wife to a wonderful husband who happens to be the opposite of me in this matter makes this difficult to say the least. It's a bit like a three-legged race, but I'm not tied to a peer of got the two kids and husband tied to me. The husband happens to be a triathlete, the two year old is running off happily in his own world and the four year old is trying to drag me along wherever she goes.

Instead of running off on my own creative path, I'm taking some laps on a track. So here I find myself doing a small job which I love. I'm making someone else's scrapbook. I get to do the creative thing. It's a real job (real enough for me anyway) and it's not about me or my family. Their things are in a box (slightly nicer than the Bazooka gum box my childhood memories are in at my parent's house).
I'm also finding that this blog and now my examiner articles are the closest I'm going to get to a journal or diary right now. I'm okay with that...because this is for me a little and I can share it with friends and family.

I'm going to keep running. That's what I do and that's how I function, but I will take moments to warm up, do a little breathing, and stretch myself.

A Little Sun Peeking Behind the Clouds

2008-10-02T15:12:00.001-07:00

This morning I woke up to the sounds of Henry screaming. I'd have to say that I hate waking up to an alarm and I usually woke up before it went off when I had one, but the most jarring way to start one's day is to the sound of your screaming child. Apparently there was a juice cup issue that was of monumental proportions for a couple seconds.

I've been feeling ill for two weeks because I have a cold that my asthma lungs cannot shake and I woke up to another humid, dreary morning.

I walk down into a warmly lit kitchen with the children seated at the table having their breakfast with daddy. They are both already dressed, Hallelujah, this means we can get out the door on time.

After breakfast, the kids snuggle up on the couch for a "morning show" and we hear a baby crying on the monitor in the playroom..then we hear a faint "Head and shoulders, knees and toes...and a baby laugh." I point out to my children that there is a baby crying on the monitor and they hold their bodies still and listen carefully. They hear the mommy singing and the baby stop crying and laugh. They both explode with giggles. This lightness, compassion and happiness envelopes me and takes me out of myself for a little while out of my cold, somewhat frenetic, racing life. We sit there together listening and giggling. That sound of laughter as a reaction to laughter is exponentially lighter and more joyful than any other.

Then, I swear it really happened no lighting or special effects, as we gathered our things to walk out the door, the clouds floated by and the sun lit our day.

Happy Thursday.

Running Part II

2008-10-02T15:11:00.000-07:00

(soon...but not yet).

Running Part 1

2008-09-09T07:57:00.001-07:00

I've been running all day every day for at least the last four years and really as long as I can remember.

As a child I remember loving hallways and big open fields to run through. The feeling was one of freedom and space and pure bliss. Once I started school I remember running at recess with my friends. We were always inventing games, running around the small school yard that seemed enormous at the time. As we got older, we played organized sports: hockey on the makeshift ice field, baseball, races. When we were a bit older we ran to tackle "keep-away" was the game of choice and it encouraged a lot of physical contact.

At Bates dance camp, I began to run before classes just for the extra work-out since one of my dorm-mates wanted company. Summers in between college I ran at home to stay in shape until I realized that running made me feel like @#$% and I hated it.

Most recently, after Henry was born I chose to enter a triathlon with my friends and relay-mates Megin and Sue. I thought I'd have no problem training for a triathlon so long as I just did the run. I had a single stroller and a double stroller for the kids and I'd just go running. I see moms in the 'hood doing it all the time. Well I never did run much with the stroller. I trained a bit on the treadmill, worked with a trainer and tried to run. But in fact, I realise now my running has never been primarily on the track, at the gym, or around the neighbourhood. I'm much to much of a philosopher, an over-thinking, a critic and a judge to be the child I was running through the tall grasses or shiny hallways. I can sometimes re-create that feeling when I go for a run/walk at the track nearby or playing with the children in the fields at Danehy. I loved to run as a child not because of the running and the speed. I loved to run because I was celebrating the space around me...I relished the feeling of being alone in the world with no strings attached.

Judgement Days

2008-03-25T16:37:00.000-07:00

Today, I learned a bit more about myself and have perhaps found a little key to change and to free myself. I know that I'm judgemental. It is part of who I am. I remember in my senior year at Fox Lane High School in Bedford, NY that we all took the Myers-Briggs test. My results were ridiculous looking, but probably quite true to self. Each bar barely left the center, except for two N and J. The N was for intuitive. The longest bar was the J: Judgemental. I wasn't surprised by any of this. I'm honest and think that I see things as they are, but really that's not the whole picture. I thought seeing things as they are and highlighting all flaws and noticing "perfections" was seeing things as they are. In fact, what I now know is that I don't have to judge everything.

What brought this to my attention was seeing my daughter be tentative about trying new things. After ballet class, she'd say "Mom, I didn't know how to dance like a dolphin. How does a dolphin dance? Do you know?". She's judging herself before she even gives herself a chance. She "over thinks". At home in just the right setting and with the right activity, she lets loose and is herself; her carefree self. Our best times together are when we both let loose, dancing in the kitchen, laughing about a moment that just tickled our funny bone.

The moments that I enjoy most myself are when I'm watching the kids' play alone or with one another. These are magic moments and I know now, they are moments without judgement. I'm not looking to improve, modify, assess, valuate anything. I see, I hear, I smile, on occasion cringe, and sometimes I swear I can feel my heart swell.

So now along with baby steps, I am going to try to have more moments without judgement.

bisy backson

2008-02-17T16:55:00.000-08:00

As some say...

(and a tiddly pom too)

(For fun, you could google bisy backson. Quite interesting in fact.)

Coming to Terms

2008-01-12T11:54:00.000-08:00

I'm just about ready to face 2008. Yes, I think I'm a bit behind, but really thoughts of 2008 and that it is a new year according to the Calendar on my wall have only just become a reality.

In case you haven't noticed...I'm really good at critique. I can find imperfection at the drop of a hat. What I am terrible at is picking up the hat and looking inside at the small perfections. A busker who loves what they do gets out there and performs to enjoy her art. When the hat gets passed around, it can't be the total amount that's in there that counts...that would be too depressing especially in a country that doesn't value the arts as much as others...but each shiny coin is a little perfect thank you someone took unplanned time out of their day to be your audience and took the time to fish out some coins or perhaps more to throw in the hat. I need to stop my show and look in the hat every once in a while.

So I've decided to make myself a list of things that I need to come to terms with maybe right now, or this week, this month, this year, dare I say this decade?

I need to come to terms with the reality that:

I can't get as much done in a day than I did before....and that's okay.

I can't take on how the kids feel when they are hurt or experiencing an "out-of-control" tantrum. I need not feel their pain, but help the through it and be there for them at the other end. (this is very hard...Dad..this is your genes!)

I can't take on how the adults in my life feel when they are going through minor or major difficult times. I can offer help, and be there for themon the other end.

It is a good thing for me to slow down and that doesn't make me lazy it makes me realistic.

Despite the fact that stress is self-imposed, I can't especially control it at this point in my life (with this amount of sleep deprivation). What I can do, is control how I respond to it.

I need to take baby steps with everything right now...and that is okay. I can save my leaps and bounds for ballet class and "living room balls" with Henry and Isabelle.

I don't need to be understood by everyone around me. I just need to have faith in myself.

That's all for now. I'm sure I have more to add, but that's what this evening has to offer. A final thought, that I taught myself (or rather learned from my many teachers, my mom, Mrs. Hopkins at KW Bilingual School, Kathleen at Carousel Dance, M. Joanis at KW Bilingual school) when I was about 12 is never to compare oneself to others. Somehow I've lost that focus. I'm not a "keeping up with the Joneses" type person, but I still am very competitive and I've forgotten that I'm my best competitor and my most real.

So....February...here we come.

what is a holiday?

2007-12-28T07:40:00.000-08:00

So we're in New York for "the holidays" and for a myriad of reasons I cringe every time I hear that term.

We're having a great time. We've spent Christmas in Pound Ridge with Grandma and Grandpa, Auntie Margaret, little blips of Minnie Royce Ormsby (the cat who does not enjoy the company of others especially others of the little sort), and visits from Poppa and Mimi, Baba and Papi and Uncle J and Erinn.

Christmas Eve was our usual tradition of take-out and final gift wrapping. This year we had the added challenge of figuring out how to get the masses of gifts under the tree since Isabelle was sleeping on a bed under the tree. Once her breathing relaxed and shifted to a deep steady whishhh and whooooshh, I signaled to Dadda that now would be a good time to put the gifts under the tree. With a couple scares, when Isabelle shifted and stretched we were able to get everything out.

When Isabelle awoke and Henry and I joined her in the studio, she looked at the tree and raised a concern. "Mom, why aren't they all under the tree?". I explained that there were lots of people and that we couldn't fit all the gifts for all the people precisely under the boughs of the tree." The children enjoyed the excitement of the day with family and new toys.

Isabelle understood that we celebrate Chanukah, but that we have Christmas at grandma's house. I don't like that the kids are always opening gifts, but I know that's the prerogative of a grandparent....Christmas, Chanukah, or random Tuesday in July. What I love is that the best times the kids had were climbing upstairs to Grandma and Grandpa's studio loft for a Tea Party with George (the bear) and Arlette (the bear), walking down to the pond to see if there were any ducks, "skating" through grandpa's garden to the "outdoor tea room", running around Bobba and Papi's first floor chasing one another and Isabelle tickling Henry, choosing books from the Bronxville library, exploring the lobby of the Poppa and Mimi's hotel and running about.

I love how much the children enjoy their grandparents and the energy that bounces between the two generations. The appreciation of one little person for one bigger person...one newer human for one more experienced human and vice versa.

In the dictionary a holiday is: noun 1 an extended period of recreation, especially away from home. 2 a day of festivity or recreation when no work is done.

This whole concept of "the holidays" that people refer to as some combination of Thanksgiving, through New Year's is a nightmare. People feel that they have to see everyone they know both friends and family. You have to have a million parties to attend and/or host. Chanukah becomes the Jewish Christmas. It makes me spin just thinking about it. It wasn't until I moved to the US where Thanksgiving is a big deal and started celebrating Christmas at "grandma and grandpa's" that I even became aware of this plague known as "the holidays". The disease is caused by television, shops at the mall, and our human ability to get caught up in the swing of things so easily. The anti-dotes are family and friends (not all acquaintances), a little baking perhaps, some crafts (that don't have to come close to the Martha Stewart Standard), perhaps religion if that's your thing, and just taking a minute to breathe and think.

So next time you wish someone well this winter. Think about to whom you are speaking and what your wish for them is, but don't feel the need to perpetuate an empty greeting...especially to me.

Thanks...and enjoy the company you keep these cold and dark winter days.

Leah
(and family)

Tuesday, I take a Personal Day

2007-12-11T16:21:00.000-08:00

Tuesday, I began my day as usual: extremely tired, in desperate need of a shower longer than 3 minutes and 15 seconds, and ready to start my day. Isabelle then proceeded to have a fit over every little thing. We tried on three or four shirts, a couple pairs of pants and then just broke down completely (her not me...yet). The sleeves were the wrong length, the fabric wasn't the right texture, etc. and beyond. After a few quick meditative breaths, I got myself dressed, scooped up Henry and we went downstairs. The whirling brewing cyclone followed and eventually we found the eye of the storm by closing the door to the playroom and waiting out the storm. Isabelle and I both realised she was too tired to cope with anything other than total control of her surroundings since she had no control of her feelings, so I head back upstairs...put my pj's back on (this was one of the issues that added fuel to the fire). We then get dressed...at the same time. Eat our toast...at the same time. Sip our water...at the same time. The kids play and soon enough Henry is ready for a nap. I put him down and he goes straight to sleep...this is rare..he must have been exhausted being witness to his sister's fury. I put on a show for Isabelle and I hop into the shower for a long relaxing downpour.

It's then that I decide I need a personal day.

Yes, a personal day used to be a day when I knew I needed to either recharge or keep going to work and eventually get sick and have to take a sick day. I would call in. Feel guilty for a couple hours and then get over it eventually. I'd stay in bed reading for a couple hours. Doze off. Take a long shower and then go for a walk. These days a Personal day looks a bit different. I don't bother feeling guilty that I might not make it back in time for Isabelle's gymnastics class. The kids are content most of the day, because let's face it...if they're not having a good day then I'm definitely not having a good day either. So I don't have to feel guilty about anything.

So my personal day went a bit like this:

I decide we are heading to the Atrium Mall. I have been wanting to take the kids to the bookstore to spend the rest of the generous gift certificates that their great Aunts and Uncles bought them for Christmas a year ago. I treat myself to a car detail and wash. I order my favourite salad from Cheesecake Factory; the French Country Small Salad. Small being a non-existent concept at the Cheesecake Factory. I also order a slice of carrot cake to bring home for dinner dessert. After the bookstore, we head over to Pottery Barn Kids and Henry and Isabelle play in the kitchen. It's very quiet at the mall (surprising but true) so I have a seat and just watch them play. Then we go back to the bookstore for a coffee (me not them) and I have promised Isabelle ice cream (she saw some adults eating ice cream in their car as we drove to the mall...there goes my story that places don't serve ice cream anymore because it is winter.) so I get her some ice cream on the way out. She is mellow for the rest of the day because I drew a very clear line in the morning and she didn't like what happened when she tried to cross it. We go home, and Isabelle doses off for a much needed nap and Henry sings along to his favourite new Music Together CD the Sticks album.

I come home feeling rejuvenated (again this is a relative term). My car is clean and crumb free. The children have had a full day and I'm not to exhausted.

We miss gymnastics...there's always next week.

Catching Bubbles - Photo Session with Sara

2007-12-09T10:02:00.001-08:00

Photo sessions with the kids are like catching bubbles. You try to capture moments of their childhood. Most of the time you just get dazed by the colours and spinning and by the time you reach out to catch the floating sphere little drops sprinkle your nose as they pop. You almost wonder if they were really there.

For me it's not about memories or perfectly captured moments. The photos are little keys that free the real memories inside your senses.

Henry does things every now and then and they remind me about what Isabelle used to do when she was a peanut.

Photos do the same to a much smaller degree. Most of the time it's not really the people in the photos that I love. It's the toy tossed to the side that you had forgotten. The tea towel on the counter in the background that you remember. The bowl of strawberries off to the side on the table. The pillow on the couch that's from the sofa we call Jesse's couch. The beach ball Henry's holding that we got for Isabelle's first birthday party.

Sara got some great shots of the kids. She has a daughter of her own and has learned what to try and when to give the kids their space.

The kids had a blast and I can't wait to get the portraits home.

If you want to get in touch with Sara, her phone number is 617-833-0660 and email is info@sublimephotoart.com.

America's Future Iron Chefs...in PBKids Kitchen Stadium

2007-12-05T17:18:00.001-08:00

Today, Henry and Sydney had some quality time playing in PBkids Mini Prep Kitchen and Retro Pink Kitchen.

They were busy opening and shutting the fridge, most likely looking for the top ingredients, produce, and spices. Henry ran across the store to get a blue plate from another table display when he was ready to plate his latest creation.

Henry got a bit startled and upset when he put his pot in the sink and it made a loud crash. He must be used to a limestone farmer's sink or something. Later Sydney tried and was surprised too, but she went back for more crash and bang.

Sydney supervised and at one point tried to take a bowl from Henry. A nice pink melamine mixing bowl. Henry gave her the "Dan eyebrow" and hugged the bowl. Then, still hugging the bowl, he explained to her why she couldn't have it. "Abla dada mama bbbbbbb. Areuh ga da."

Sydney seemed a bit taken aback, but she wasn't going to try to argue. She knows that Isabelle is Henry's big sister and that he has a lot more practice with the holding strong/arguing skill. Then Henry proceeded to convince Sydney that she should take the pot. He handed it to her, but she didn't seem that interested. So Henry tried to take her hand and fold it around the handle. Sydney decided to humour him and took the pan. Then they were off back to cooking.

After the last dishes were set in the fridge, stove top, oven, dishwasher and clothes dyer, Henry and Sydney headed over to the ironing board next to the mini-prep kitchen. Henry tried to hang on to the over sink hooks and dangle as the whole thing began to teeter I got up to grab a few utensils to hang from the hooks. "Henry they're not to hang yourself. They are to hang these (a spatula, slotted spoon and rolling pin)". He seemed satisfied and went on to iron...well not exactly iron. He grabbed the iron and ironed the end of the ironing board and continued along the tracks towards the faucet and around the bars that held the hooks and back to the ironing board "CHoo...choo...choo...choo" he sang. Well perhaps he's a future iron chef, but for now he's still my baby boy...emphasis on boy.

Date night...and its repurcussions

2007-12-04T08:30:00.000-08:00

After three years, I finally got it together and our fabulous babysitter Jen comes once a week so that we get a date night. Ahhhh....date night....you can picture it now:

Mom gets out her fabulous little black dress that fits perfectly and is pressed and clean. Isabelle watches as I pull on my silky hole-free nylons and slip on my leather heels that feel as comfortable as slippers. She prances around the room clomping in my other leopard print heels. I spray on a little scent and carefully put my silver earrings in. When the babysitter comes I give Isabelle and Henry a soft kiss on the head and jauntily walk out the door. Dan meets me at some fabulous Boston restaurant where we enjoy each others company over candlelight and talk about this and that. NOPE....not exactly.

Let me preface this with the fact that I am grateful that I finally got it together to have a babysitter come and that our children are healthy and relatively easy to take care of. I'm also thankful that date night is even an option given that I don't work outside the house and that my mommyhood income although low on taxes is also low on income.

So actually we have had a couple nice dinners out. We have so many fabulous restaurants around us in Boston, Cambridge and Charlestown. Our last two nights out were at Olives in Charlestown where the food, albeit rich, and atmosphere were a real treat bringing us back to our more carefree days and Chez Henri a favourite from the old neighbourhood.

We've also had a quick dinner at a Mexican fast food chain after my workout at the gym (that I do enjoy as a little me time and I don't have to listen from the shower to hear if anyone is crying) and then grocery shopping.

Date night has also been coffee/tea at a local bookstore with another mom just to catch up and mostly vent about kids and husbands and life in general.

There's also the most recent date night, which is the Isabelle and Mommy date night. I've been pretty tired lately since I've been sick, and Henry's getting molars. The flip side of this is that Isabelle has had a pretty short-tempered, impatient, and non-indulgent mommy for the past few weeks. So I figured it was time for another Belle and Mom date night.

We got Henry settled with Jen. He had a fabulous time dancing around the kitchen with Isabelle showing us some new moves. I think he's been watching MTV when I'm not paying attention. Does MTV even exist anymore? Do they have music and dancing? Belle and I head out with Henry yelling "Bye" to us down the stairs. We stop at Kotobukiya in Porter Square to order some sushi and then Isabelle and I go to Made By Me to paint some pottery. Isabelle and I talk about how I couldn't have sushi when she was still in my tummy. She keeps asking when she gets to hold her chopsticks until finally we get our bag and she gets her chopsticks.

At Made By Me Isabelle chooses a Monkey for herself and dog for Henry since Henry likes dogs. I choose to Japanese-style teacups for the kids. The sushi is great, the painting is relaxing and Isabelle enjoys choosing the colours, squeezing the paint onto the palette -this is a favourite, and painting then going up onto the counter and starting all over again until both pieces are done. I relax as I paint each cup wondering if they'll look half decent given the distractions and interruptions, but I relish them and I don't mind if they're not up to my "pre-mom" quality because what does that mean anyway. Each day is different now, then, and before then. Isabelle is so relaxed and it is nice to just be in each others' company.

The next morning...a late night and a perfect evening transform into a huge meltdown...Isabelle won't wear anything she chooses for various reasons. I give up and go get myself dressed. She cannot get out of her monster meltdown until I shut the door and she realises she's reached my limit. Then we go back upstairs. I put my pajamas back on and we start fresh. Insane I know, but that's the mindset of a 3 year old and in particular my 3 year old.

Then we head to Starbucks for a little peace and caffeine.

Happy Tuesday.

Leah

Buzz and Bees

2007-12-03T13:19:00.000-08:00

So, I'm a bzzzagent. Yeah, I know it sounds weird. I think it might be even dorkier now that the new bee movie with Jerry Seinfeld is coming out or is out (I'm a mom of 2 kids under 5- I really have no clue when movies come out in the theatres). Now when I mention bzzzagent, I see myself as a ridiculous cartoon bee. So to save face, I just tell people that I am part of a word of mouth program.

Basically, I try some new products that I would potentially buy/use anyway and then I share samples, coupons, and opinions about the products.

At the moment, I've tried the 100% Naturals Chapstick. I liked this because it's Chapstick so it is familiar and also it had no scent or weird tingling. I saved on stick for myself and then use one for each child (labeled with my p-touch). This is the season for chapstick so I usually have 2 or 3 kinds in every pocket, car and bag.

I also have the Barilla Tortellini, but I've been busy cooking so I haven't tried it yet.

My favourite new toy is the Philips Sonicare FlexCare toothbrush with UV to sanitize the brush. I've had a bad cold for the past month so somehow I feel healthier with the UV. It's also kind of like going to the dentist, so I felt a bit strange the first time using it...I'm not a huge fan of vibrations so it took a couple minutes for me to relax. Finally, I'm a notorious 10 second tooth-brusher and with this brush I actually clean my teeth properly. My dentist and my husband will be so proud! Now if I could only find time to shower! (just kidding... most of the time)

The last two bzzproducts I have to try are the Back to Nature nut and trail mixes....I love their granola bars, but have to try these to see if they are up to par.

Finally, I have to try the CVS Photo book. I five a lot of photo books as gifts since we have two young children and many adoring grandparents. I just need a minute to sit down and upload the pictures.

Well that's all the Buzz I have for now. Next topic....memories of the season (I'm just not ready yet.)

2007-11-29T18:26:00.000-08:00

A Nice Day Out - City version & Country version

2007-11-15T08:07:00.000-08:00

Lately, we've had a couple low key days with just the right time and space for both kids to play and explore the world around them and just enough coffee and fresh air for me to relax and enjoy watching them.

The Country Day... We headed out to Drumlin Farm. It was a cool day and the trees along route 2 towards Lincoln are picture perfect. Henry loves all the animals. Isabelle is quick to point out any "stink" and nervously asks where the foxes are and do we have to go see them and where is the skunk...followed by 500 questions so that she can know as much as possible about these animals to help her not be afraid.

The kids spend the majority of their time digging in the dirt patch in the garden with trowels. I sit on a platform in the sun and inhale the wafting scent of basil: a strong summer smell weaving it's way into this fall air.

The farm is quiet. There is a small burst of energy as a school group walks by. Isabelle, Henry and I have a small snack and watch one of the preschool farm classes do some chores.

We then head over to our Lindentree Farm and harvest our last raspberries, and pick up our horn of plenty for the season. The brussel sprouts are blanched and frozen waiting for Dad (and whoever else will eat them with me) at Thanksgiving.

The city day...Henry, Sydney, Samantha and I started our day as usual trying to figure who was napping when and what we could do that morning. It was a beautiful day so we chose Newbury St. a little shopping, a little walking, some coffee and a bite to eat and the Clarendon St. playground. Henry and Sydney were in heaven with all the toys and structures at the playground and I was in heaven with all the goodies and styles in the shops.

At the playground we are surrounded by children in a range of fashions, many nannies and the odd mom somewhat styled and fashionable with perhaps an oat or two stuck to her pantleg and a cell phone stuck to her ear. I was in awe watching Sydney and Henry in all their cuteness just taking in the scene of toys, kids, a couple dry leaves for Sydney to sample before she picked up Henry's discarded madeleine. They were so happy. Henry almost ran over a small group of nannies dressed in their puffy vest with the requisite shawl or pashmina thrown over it as he backed up the toy car because he doesn't know how to go forwards yet. What made this day so nice aside from the shopping and the weather was that I could appreciate the time I have with the kids. The moms that were there (2 of about 12 adults and one had her nanny with her)looked miserable and lost. Yes, I have my days when I feel like I need to be peeled off the floor, but I never feel the way those moms looked.

Also, for parking...after a couple times of circling the street a man waited for us (it seemed) we asked if he was leaving and he pulled out for us. Then he got out and gave us his parking stub with an extra hour. That was a nice start to our outing.

Life is good.

Leah

(Stream of conscience writing...not going to edit..have other stuff to do>)

Spinning, stretching, pushing, pulling but not working out

2007-10-27T18:24:00.000-07:00

So this past week or perhaps two, I've felt like a lost ball thrown hastily into the back of the car or perhaps dropped there on day. We are driving along a dirt road. I'm an inanimate passenger in my own life just being thrown from one direction to the next, rebounding, getting stuck and rolling back.

My driver? A 3 year old child. That can't be good.

I have moments where I'm myself. The moments are like one spark of a sparkler. I see Isabelle taking care of Henry. Henry's laughing at Isabelle and she is trying so hard to recapture that moment over and over again as the sit in their car seats in the back of my car. I see Henry study Isabelle. Henry climbs the stairs ahead of me and puts his hand up and says "Wait!", just like his sister does not really knowing what he just said or did. Henry putting a dishtowel in the washing machine closing the door and reaching up to turn the knob. These moments are spectacular and brilliant and full of lightness, but I can't hold on to them. I don't think we're allowed to hold on to them.

The rest of the time is difficult. Henry wants to do and see and have what his big sister does. Isabelle wants the support that Henry gets because he can't do what she does. I want to figure it out so everyone can get what they want and what they need, but that doesn't work because really...I have no idea what we all need or what it is that we really even want. I've decided I think to much, but that really doesn't help much.

So for now what is working is for me to roll with the punches. I'll try to steer a little and enjoy the ride. We'll see where that brings us tomorrow, next week, and beyond.

Fall Season of Change

2007-10-09T07:20:00.001-07:00

Fall might actually be here and for that I am grateful. I can't really handle 80-90 degree days in October.

I want to enjoy the warmer clothes, cozier nights, and Fall walks with the kids.

Small thoughts today. I'm just trying to distract myself from Henry's cries as he decides not to nap and my mind racing wondering if he's not actually tired and his nap is shifting, or if he's just fighting harder now.

I had to smile when I went up after a failed afternoon nap to see that Henry had thrown all his pillows and bedtime toys on the ground. My little rebel...fighting naps with a vengeance.

I'm trying to go with the flow let the winds of change sway me from side to side before they softly lay me down on the ground to be kicked up again. I'm not succeeding yet...but tomorrow is another day.

Grocery Stories

2007-09-12T12:36:00.000-07:00

I have memories of where, when, how I shopped from the days my mom carted me around from store to store to now when I cart my kids around from store to store.

We belong to a CSA this year. I love it. I relish taking my kids to the farm and watching Henry pluck raspberries from the bushes and eat them. I enjoy trying new recipes and figuring out how to cook everything before it spoils while pleasing Dan's palate, the kids' palates and mine.

I love that the tops and tails of the green beans and the bok choy I never got around to cooking sit in a little black box in the yard decomposing into compost to feed our plants next year.

Lindentree Farms has made me even more aware of where my food comes from. I refuse to buy California "baby" carrots when I know there are carrots growing locally right now. It has brought me to the less fancy supermarkets that are locally owned. I notice that more food comes from closer by at Market Basket (aforementioned locally-owned market). I can even find organic baby carrots from NJ not CA.

I love the setting sun. Isabelle covered in dirt returning home too late with feet as black as the sky. Henry's laugh; a little nervous, mostly excited when he hovers around Pearl the dog. Me letting go of figuring out dinner for everyone, worrying about getting everyone's bath and bedtime on time, wondering when Henry, Isabelle, Dan, and I will finally settle down for the evening and let sleep take over. I grab some food from Formaggio, take the bag as is, we go harvest, play, picnic and get home when we get home children asleep or awake.