lights out

Note: Since I started this post, we got hit with another nor'easter in the form of snow. Thankfully, we didn't lose power and were plowed out by the end of the day.

I had been procrastinating on a few post ideas, when post-worthy events dropped into my lap. My friends on the east coast, you've noticed some unpleasant weather lately? Like high winds and tons of rain in the form of a nor'easter? It was hard to miss in New England.

At first, I just worried about our MacGyver'ed dryer vent in the basement window. (My father-in-law did make us a Plexiglass window with a louvered vent in it for us to install at some point, but we hadn't gotten to it yet). I noticed the drywall was starting to wet through, and also that the window wasn't entirely air or water tight, so I rushed through two loads of laundry and then took some precautions.

I'd like to ask the person who wired our house if he was even aware that our state has electrical codes. 

On the bright side, my concerns about the dryer vent got the laundry washed and dried before I started noticing some brown-outs. Ok, clearly it's the wind, because utility companies in New England still haven't discovered underground power lines. I was in the basement with the kids around 3:30 when the lights flickered three times, then went out.

Okay. Let's go upstairs. I texted Mr. Husband and suggested that he bring some dinner home, just in case the power wasn't back by dinner time. I led/dragged the kids through a decade of the rosary partly to pray for the restoration of our power, and partly to have something to do since our playroom was pitch-black. We read through some books in the waning daylight (I may have cursed the early sunset of the northeast to myself), played "camping," lit some candles, gathered a few flashlights, and started telling stories as we waited and waited for Mr. Husband to come home.

By some miracle, a pizzeria and a convenience store on the way home had power, so once Mr. Husband navigated three detours due to downed trees, he came bearing pizza, wine, chocolate, batteries for the flashlights, and ice for the refrigerator. God bless this man.

We were surprised to wake up to no power, but got the kids breakfast (after catching them with the refrigerator doors wiiiiide open and administering a scolding), and Mr. Husband went out in search of a Dunkin Donuts with power. We took three second showers with the remaining hot water in the tank, and Mr. Husband decided that he could still get a few house projects done without electricity. I went out for more ice and gas while he worked.

I married up.

I'd planned to attend the funeral service for a friend's mother, so I headed out to the church two towns over, took three detours around down trees, and arrived to discover that though the church was holding the service, they were also without heat or power. After the service I saw I had 8 or so texts from Mr. Husband informing me that it was too cold in the house to stay there with the kids, and that he, the kids, and all of the meat from our freezer, would meet me on the way to his parents'. Once we'd thawed out and had a hot meal, we decided we couldn't face another night without heat.

The next morning, after hot coffee, Mass, and breakfast, we headed back home to find no power, and most houses on our (hilly) side of the street using pumps borrowed from the fire department to drain their basements. After checking our basement for water (none except a weird drain thing by our bulkhead, which I'd covered with a towel to keep cold air out anyways), we decided to run some errands, then come home to either stay if the power was back, or pack for another night at the in-laws' if it wasn't. We were delighted to come home again to no internet, but a warm house, running fridge, and lots of blinking clocks.

Snug little cuddlebugs at home again.

Many thanks to all the utility workers and tree specialists who worked overtime for days and nights. Many thanks to God that we had neighboring towns still on the grid where we could get gas and buy ice and coffee, and a place to warm up during our 48 hours without power. Many thanks to the internet for being out for an extra day and reminded me how little I need it.

But seriously, we're getting a generator once any store within 50 miles gets one back in stock.

seven quick takes

1. Miss A turned 3 last weekend! All she wanted was a Minnie cake...for her present, for her birthday dinner, and for dessert. We did give her actual presents, and she was a good sport about my chamber music concert falling on the same day. I can't believe my house is now devoid of babies and toddlers. It seems only yesterday that my day was a marathon of feedings and diaper changes.

My cake decorating philosophy is "know your limits."

2. The east coast has been blessed with a few lovely patches of warm weather. Unfortunately for us, it's either been so wet and windy, or I've had so many errands that we've spent less time outside than when it was just snowy. Goal for today: making the kids go outside, even if the time spend bundling up is equivalent to the time spent playing.

3. To get myself out of the winter doldrums, I'm planning my first-ever real vegetable garden for this summer. We finally have the space to start a decent number of seeds without worrying about the kids accidentally spilling everything. So far we have an odd mix of herbs and vegetables in potting soil, since I bought my seeds on clearance at the Job Lot last fall. #cheapskatesgonnacheap

4. Speaking of winter again, few things remind me more of the lack of forethought and planning than our barely-functional mudroom and the multiplication of outerwear items store in it this time of year. It's roughly 3' x 6', with more of the useful wall space taken up by a window, two inward-opening doors, plus another door to the kitchen.

My attempt at a 360º-ish tour.

The walls are too soft for wall anchors or 3M hooks, there is mold on the baseboards, one of the door frames is rotting, and I'm afraid to mop the stick-on vinyl tile because it's starting to peel off. Furthermore, there is no insulation in the walls or floors, except for a lone paper towel I found stuffed in the wall while hanging a row of pegs.

This means that snowy gloves, hats, and boots do not dry in our mudroom, but rather become stiff and frozen. At least I managed to find a single stud under the window for hanging said pegs.

5. On that DIY thread, thanks to some generous family members who sent us Home Depot gift cards for Christmas, we are starting to build our tool arsenal past basic hand tools and electric drills. I'm one part excited and one part terrified that I'll lose a finger.

I have big plans for all of the scrap lumber the sellers left in the basement.

6. It's becoming more apparent to me than ever that my youngest was somehow born without any sense of self-preservation. Her first instinct upon entering any room is to find the highest surface she can climb, and then climb and jump off of it. I was hoping putting my kids in swimming lessons would help them be safer around water...nope. After Miss A strolled down the steps and went over her head once, it didn't deter her from trying again and again. God bless our ever-patient swimming instructor.

7. On Instagram, I pledged to join a "practice every day and gram about it!" with other followers of @wholeparenting this past Tuesday. How many days so far have I practiced the repertoire for my symphony concert in two weeks? Zero. Eek. I guess I'd better slow down my wild goose hunt for free pianos on Craigslist and pick up the fiddle for an hour or four.

This page is going to kill me. Especially if I have to read off of someone else's copy without my fingerings again.

or

Flesch called. He wants his arpeggios back.

Linking up with Kelly.

ordinary time

I'll confess, toward the end of the Christmas season, I was looking forward to things going back to normal. Maybe it was the horrible cold-and-fever virus that hit everyone during the Christmas octave, or the disappointment of so many cancelled plans, or just the antsy-pantsy 4-year-old who was getting a too-long break from routine and preschool work.

Then it got far too cold to play outside. 

Didn't stop me from drinking iced coffee, though.

 And someone celebrated the night before our first blizzard by kicking her kitchen chair backward, splitting her head open, and taking a trip to urgent care. 

She's the family daredevil. I'll be amazed if she makes it to age four without breaking a bone.

After on-again, off-again fevers and isolated vomiting (including an amazing display all over the living room rug), Mr. B. was diagnosed with a minor ear infection.

And I say to myself, "When will things go back to normal?" But then I realize this is normal. It's normal for little kids to get hurt, get sick, and it's normal for me to worry about them. It's normal to have days of chaos where the playroom looks like a bomb went off, and every hamper in the laundry room is overflowing. It's normal to have a pipe freeze in the winter when you're still in the process of fixing up your house. Normal, normal, normal problems. I can worry, yes, but I can also be grateful when my ears pick up happy shrieks instead of sniffling and gagging. I can be content to shovel load after load from washer to dryer to hamper to drawers, wipe down tables, sweep floors content in the ordinary cycle of clean and dirty in the rhythm of our day. I can take an afternoon off when the kids are tired, and sit and watch Toy Story, reveling in their delight in seeing a 23-year-old movie for the first time. I can dry the tears, endure the screams, enjoy the giggles that won't last forever. I can simultaneously mourn and enjoy that my diaper bag is empty of diapers because my kids are no longer toddlers.

My vocation now is ordinary time.

2017: 12 Months in 12 Photos

Yes, I know the collage only has nine photos.

January
We faced down a long winter, and celebrated the second birthday of this little fashionista. Also, Mr. Husband and I took a first-time homebuyer's class.

source

February

We celebrated a fifth ring for our quarterback and started our home search. Also, winter in a two-bedroom apartment, which is a well-beaten deceased equus on this blog.

March
We traveled with friends up into the Green Mountains and spend a long weekend feasting, resting by the gas fireplace, exploring quaint little mountain towns, and letting our kids eat a shameful amount of Annie's Mac and Cheese. Then we went home, looked at a house, put an offer on it, had the offer accepted, and signed our first Purchase and Sales agreement.

April
We celebrated the fourth birthday of our oldest and my thirtieth birthday. Then we got the keys to our very first house and said goodbye to our shabby little apartment. God bless family, friends, and neighbors who were willing to help me break down outdoor play sets, schlep boxes and play sets in their notreallytiny cars, pack all of our furniture including a heavy washer and dryer into a truck and then unpack it all over again, surprise me by taking over all of the backyard stuff (including a plastic bin full of compost! my black gold!) I was planning to leave until the following day, and help with all manner of minor crisis like slow drains and rewiring the dryer. And all for the payment of a few beers and BJ's burgers grilled on our new (to us) back deck.

May
The renovating begins in earnest! Although our house was technically "move in ready," we learned during our first tour that there was a reason why no pictures of the second story were included in the listing. The upstairs needs a lot of updating, including covering up a gross tiled ceiling, major patching and repainting of the walls (who uses a staple gun to hang posters?!), and replacing a stained and filthy carpet.

June
Not pictured: repainted upstairs walls and ceilings. Or the office having its wallpaper removed over two sweaty weekends of steaming, then walls replastered and painted. Pictured: Kids enjoying the fruits of having a real outdoor water source.

July
We took a roadtrip to Valley Forge and Philadelphia! Mr. Husband and I enjoyed the history, architecture, and the art. The kids enjoyed the Please Touch Museum and the fountains.

August
Another month, another roadtrip! This time we went to Québec City and got on marvelously well considering neither of us speak much French. More beautiful architecture, art, and history for the adults, and Le Musée de la Civilisation for the kids. I may or may not have started casually looking at home prices in Lévis (where we stayed) while we were there.

September
We started MODG pre-K and youth soccer with Mr. B. I also stared de-beige-ifying our downstairs, and joined a local community orchestra.

October
We continued homeschooling, and Miss. A continued to try to join her brother's soccer team.

November
We bought laminate flooring and baseboards, transported them in our tiny cars home, and Mr. Husband, with his dad, installed them upstairs. Transformation nearly complete!

December
We had our first run with a Jessie Tree (using our faux fir as a stand-in). I felt like we had a very focused, anticipatory Advent, and was excited to host our first Christmas dinner. Then, starting two days before Christmas, Mr. Husband came down with a nasty cold +fever virus that proceeded to infect every other member of the family and transform our living room into a sick ward. I think this past week will be remembered as "The Lost Christmas." At least we have a few more days before the Epiphany to catch up!

Here's to 2018 and more frequent blog posts!

moving on

Time is a funny thing. When I'm anticipating something, it can seem like the weeks, days, hours, or minutes drag by--especially if I'm waiting for spring after an interminable winter. But four and a half years can go by in a flash.

Little Mr. B...a pumpkin among pumpkins.

When we signed our first lease agreement, we thought we'd be here for one year, maybe two. We were saddened to leave the more urban community where we'd been living, but we needed to move into the suburbs to find a reasonable amount of space to raise our yet-to-be-born Mr. B. Our apartment was, and still is, old (built in 1880!) and somewhat dingy, but it was in the perfect location for Mr. Husband to walk to the train and for me to drive to my teaching job. When we realized Miss A would be arriving, we looked at other apartments but ultimately decided to stick it out in a smaller but more affordable and convenient space.

Then our kids got bigger and more active, and 850 square feet got very, very small. And shortly after we started looking for a house, we found something that would work for us in a nearby town.

So now we are elbow deep in packing. When we moved here, we had yet to acquire any baby paraphernalia. Now our belongings seem to have tripled, especially in the Lego department. The last few weeks have dragged by as I eagerly anticipate more space, more privacy, a nicer yard, a parking spot next to the door. I bounce between frazzled packing and frustration that we can't pack everything that we'll still need before we close on the house. And I ask myself, will I miss this place?

I won't miss the backyard with the falling-down fence and the dusty soil that coats the kids until they look like Pigpen. But I will miss the impromptu playdates between Mr. B and his fellow four year old friend two doors down.

I won't miss the busy street with the constant noise of cars drag racing and truck jake brakes. But I'll miss being a less than a mile from the church, the post office, the bank, and the library.

I won't miss the constant stream of garbage being blown across the street from the shopping plaza into our front "yard." But I will miss the convenience of being able to walk over to Walgreens, even in a blizzard, and pick up prescriptions.

I skipped one week. ONE. WEEK.

I won't miss the constant dinginess of the apartment, from the dust lacquered into the floor, to the awful kitchen linoleum that looks filthy even when freshly mopped, to the completely obscene graffiti adorning the crumbling walls of our creepy fieldstone basement. But I will miss being able to keep the upper floors of the apartment from looking like a crack den with very little effort.

We may not live in a crack den, but sometimes my kids seem to think that we live in a frat house.

I won't miss trying to keep two active kids from climbing the walls when it's too cold, too snowy, too slippery, too rainy, too muddy...too anything to go outside. But I'll never forget that inside those same walls I labored with both of my children, cared for them as newborns, and watched them learn to roll, sit, crawl, walk, and talk. Even Mr. B may keep some dim memories of living in our "department."

So on we shall move, ready to make new memories in a new place, knowing that the days of unpacking and settling in will likely drag on, but the years will again fly by.

{7QT} After A Long Winter's Nap

1. I'm back. I took a long hiatus this fall and most of this winter not just from blogging but many other things due to some health issues. I'm doing much better, and I've learned some valuable lessons about accepting help and taking care of myself.

Enjoying a nice blizzard. Our neighbors thought we were insane.

2. We have been blessed by an unusually mild winter, and I guess I can't complain too much it this year. Snow and freezing temperatures always highlight, at least to me, the silly little inconveniences inherent in our living situation--like the distance between the parking lot and our door, or not having any devices on the roof whatsoever to break up ice dams hanging a full foot over the back of the building. So I'm grateful that we've had minimal shuffling of two little ones over the plowed-over sidewalk on our busy street to our car.

Freaky.

3. Despite the mild winter, I'm so glad that I finally invested in quality winter wear this year. After ten winters in New England wearing a pea coat, I finally purchased a coat system from L.L. Bean. It has been worth every penny (especially the gift card I got with the purchase that went toward the first pair of snow mittens that stay on Mr. B's hands). Then, last week, I took advantage of their ridiculously generous return policy to exchange some cracked Wellies for the popular Bean Boots. I consider myself pretty thrifty as far as clothing is concerned (I mostly rock the clearance rack and Savers), but it's more fun to enjoy the snow with my kids without being super cold and wet.

Enjoying afternoon cereal the classy way.

4. Miss A has now turned two, and I'm marveling at how many baby things are disappearing from our main living floor. Half of our baby toys have been dropped off surreptitiously at Savers (they take stuffed animals! Praise God!) and we had to retire all the baby gates because the kids were using them to mash each other into the wall. Lest you think our children are precocious little angels, I also had to throw Miss A's toothbrush away this week because she snuck into the bathroom, got her toothbrush down (which is on a shelf over the toilet because our bathroom sucks is quirky.) and used it to clean the very dirty drain pipe in the sink (because when the drain stopper broke my landlord replaced it with a $0.50 mesh sieve).

Should we water the house with sand or mud?

5. All of a sudden my children have gone from being indifferent and/or antagonistic toward each other to being frenemies--a vast improvement, really. I can sometimes set them up with something to do--trains, coloring, dressing up--and back away to either accomplish something, relax, or just listen in on their conversation. Today they painted the heck out of eight coloring pages and discussed which Bob the Builder characters they each were. It was surreal, I tell you.

I almost took one of those signs home.

6. Because we're crazy, we decided to break up our winter by driving north. We left our mild, snowless abode in southern New England for the mountainous reaches of Vermont and stayed in this little place for four days:

The view of the Green Mountains was fantastic.

It was too cold to hike, and not snowy enough to do snow things, so we took a few trips into the nearby towns for maple syrup, chocolate, and cheese, but mostly we sat in front of the gas fireplace, cooked, and ate. We also made a futile attempt to procure Chartreuse liquor, but were stymied by unpaved roads not maintained in the winter, a fallen tree, and our southern New England city slicker vehicles. The kids had a blast on the trip, but Mr. B was very, very confused.

7. He was confused that we were going to live in Vermont indefinitely because we may be leaving our little apartment abode soon for four walls, a driveway, and a yard of our very own. We're thrilled by the washer/dryer hookups that are next to one another, a kitchen with more than fifteen continuous inches of counter space, closets wide enough for hangers, and enough space in the bathroom to swing a cat. Among other amenities.

Linking up with Kelly.

a beach vacation with kids

Last year, we spent a four-day-three-night vacation in a cottage by the beach the last weekend of August. We had gorgeous weather and survived travel with a two year old and a baby. This year, we stayed at the same beach, but a different (and cheaper) cottage, during Labor Day weekend, and had less agreeable weather. Not only did we survive travel, but we still managed to have a lovely time. There are probably a thousand and one more helpful blog posts about travelling with kids, so I won't make this entirely into a "tips for travel" post, but rather a "this is what worked for us" post.

7QT: Summery Summary

Sorry about that title there.

1. New England is in a drought right now. I'm finding it hard to worry because rain and excessive humidity keep us indoors, and since our apartment doesn't feature a working outdoor water hookup, we follow all of the outdoor watering regulations without even trying.

We tried to put down grass seed. It looked great until the first hot day, and then the sun completely toasted it.

If You Can't Say Anything Nice Don't Say Anything At All; Or, I'm Still Alive and {Occasionally} Blogging

I absentmindedly called up my own blog url yesterday and realized it's been over two months since my last post. Oops. I wasn't intending to take a hiatus, but when I'd think to blog, one of several things would happen.

1. I'd be too busy with my responsibilities to my family and household.

2. The weather would turn nice and I'd take the kids outside.

3. I'd be in a horrible mood, and the blog post I'd write in my head would be mostly complaining.

The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly

I was updating the family calendar with doctor's appointments, rehearsals, concerts, and the like, and it occurred to me that we really only have a few weeks of winter left. For better or worse, the winter has gone by much faster than I anticipated due to many things, all good, bad, and ugly.

From top left, clockwise: ice on the inside of the front door, the worst day of winter, rags stuffed in the gap around the door on said day, and isn't New England wacky?

A not so ordinary day in the life...

My Monday this week ended very differently than it started. I guess it started at the same time Mr. Husband and I ended our Sunday, because instead of going to bed at a reasonable hour like sensible parents of small children, we decided to end our tour of the Star Wars prequels like crazy teenagers. What better way to bond with one's spouse than watch a movie where you're constantly shouting questions at the screen about plot holes and giant gaps in logic?

So, midnight: crawl into bed.

Deck the Halls...eventually.

What you wanted most for Christmas was a blog post, right?

Too bad.

It's been busy around the ATP household, but it doesn't really feel like Christmas Eve. Part of that is the unseasonably warm weather. My New England sensibility expects snow, or at least cold, in December, and instead all of our windows are open. It doesn't feel seasonally appropriate, but we're appreciative for the kids being able to play outside and for the break in our heating bill.

Five Faves Wednesday: Advent

Before I had children, I worked at a Catholic school. A large part of my job during Advent was to prepare middle and high school students for a Vespers prayer service that featured performances from almost every musical and dance group in the school. Everything, from the music and dance, to the entrances and exits from the stage, to the invitation of alumni to join us in the end to sing "Night of Silence" (a partner song with "Silent Night"), had to be executed perfectly. Although the process put a considerable amount of stress on the students and teachers alike, each Vespers service was beautiful and reverent. There were other traditions that made the season special-- schoolwide"Advent Angels" (a way better variation on "Secret Santa"), and every year I'd use the last class before break to read my younger students "The Polar Express" and make elaborate paper snowflakes.

it's the little things

Why can't everything go my way?

I feel like I spend a lot of time trying to get my children to understand that not everything can go their way, particularly Sir Toddler. He's only allowed to watch TV during a designated time of day (while I'm making dinner and not every day), not just any time he asks. He can't have any special desserts in the house without finishing his dinner. He has to clean up one messy toy before he's allowed to take out another. All very little things. And yet, it's equally little stuff that helps bring out my inner whine.

Why couldn't there have been a parking spot in the lot at rehearsal?

Why can't the baby nap when her brother naps? Why won't she stop crying?

Why are the stroller tires flat for my run?

Why did it start raining the second we headed for the playground?

All very little things. I like to make plans and lists and systems and have everything go according to them. But, honestly, it's pretty shortsighted to think that my plans and my desires should be the measure by which the world should run. I'm one person, and a pretty flawed, young, and inexperienced one at that. I'm not the only one who makes plans, and mine aren't the best.

Sometimes I get lucky enough to find a parking spot less than a block away from rehearsal with the meter already paid.

Sometimes the muffed simultaneous lap allows me to enjoy one-on-one time with each child.

Sometimes the flat stroller tire brings my attention to the messy, sticky chocolate all over the stroller before I toss it into the trunk and spread the mess.

Sometimes the rain on the way to the playground encourages me to expand our play horizons to making art inside.

And sometimes, I'm simply being taught the lesson that I still can't have everything I want when I want it.

Beware of Toddler

Schedules, rhythms, routines, seasons. They were part of my life as a teacher. Motherhood has its rhythms and seasons as well, but routines are unpredictable. As much as classroom teaching was subject to changes based on the varying needs of my growing students, life with small kids is volatile.

If I'd written this post a few days ago, I would have mentioned how Sir Toddler was reaching a happy medium. He's no longer waking up in tears in the middle of the night. He has started napping in his bed, or, if not napping, at least sitting quietly. He's always had a cheerful disposition and for the last year and a half has had an impressive obedient streak for his age. When we went to the playground on Monday, he didn't shy away from the other kids but charmed several school-age children into playing with him (the public schools were out for Rosh Hashanah). I pushed Lady Infant in the swing, chatted with my fellow playgroup moms, and was reveling in reaching the stage where I could more or less let my son play independently on the structures.

Then he fell down the steps and banged his head on the baby-sized structure. I didn't even notice the enormous goose egg welling up on his brow at first because his hat obscured it. (Fortunately, apart from an ugly bruise, he is ok!) Yesterday and today Sir Toddler has had some ugly tantrums over the most mundane things...being forced to choose his snack from what we actually had in the pantry, not wanting to go for a stroller ride (usually one of his favorite things), and not being allowed to play with the trucks at Target because we were pressed for time.

(I bought him a cheapity cheap truck ONCE. For the beach. Two months ago.)

It was an awful moment for everyone (except for Lady Infant, who is usually the fussy party). I wanted to melt into the ground while I pushed my sobbing, screaming, flailing toddler, still sporting his shiner from the playground, to the checkout, braving the palpable discomfort of the other shoppers and employees. I felt like I should have been wearing a T-shirt that said, "I didn't hit my kid! He's usually really good at the store! Please don't judge me!" But there was nothing I could do except ignore him and get through the checkout as quickly as possible.

Indeed it was an awful moment. But it was just a moment. He was over it by the time we got to the car. I'll probably see more public displays of Sir Toddler's burgeoning temper as he learns to communicate his feelings, manage his emotions, and come to terms with a world where he can't get everything he wants. That season has its limit and he'll eventually outgrow these tantrums (I hope!). At the same time, this season I'm also seeing his ability to put together sentences, have short conversations, remember the words to songs and sing snippets independently, and occasionally play with his baby sister. This season, he loves to give me unsolicited hugs and kisses, tells me I'm pretty, and asks me to sing his favorite songs to him. And that season has its limits, too.

Being a parent of small children is hard. It was hard with one baby. It was hard with one toddler. It is hard with a toddler and a baby, and from my brief glimpse into teaching adolescents, I know parenting will still be hard with teenagers. I certainly don't consider myself an expert on parenting, and you won't catch me telling a mom with a screaming baby, "Enjoy them while they're little!"

All I can do is try to get through the bad parts of the season, and savor the good. Because the season won't last.