Traditions

 If you know me at all, you know that my family is a little crazy (in a sitcom kind of way, I think). I'm the oldest of six,* which is enough crazy in and of itself; the other eccentricities are just the cherry on top. But despite the crazy, my mom (a.k.a. the glue that holds us all together) has managed to maintain some semblance of tradition throughout the years.

 And what better time for traditions than Christmas?

We always decorated the tree together and listened to Boney James' Funky Christmas. It always looked atrocious, and mom always fixed it after we went to bed. 

We weren't allowed to come downstairs until everyone was awake, but that rule was later revised to specify "not before 7AM" (apparently dragging your younger siblings out of bed at 6 in the morning is unacceptable). 

Once I was older and had a TV in my room, my brothers would camp out with me and watch the A Christmas Story marathon until Santa finished wrapping presents in the wee hours of the morning (procrastinator). Then, we'd sneak down the steps to size up the goods. 

We always woke up to cinnamon rolls in the oven, and Mom videotaped us** as we opened our presents. We'd stash away our loot, and head to Grandma's house for Christmas dinner.

And then my parents divorced.

And then I moved out.

And then I got married.

And then my dad moved to Florida to become a scuba diver. You can't make this stuff up.

But through divorces and the economy and all of the crazy, one thing remains: tradition. No matter what happens from one year to the next, I want Landon to know that he can count on a few small things: 

We'll always hang red, glitter-glued stockings and blast Christmas jams while we decorate the tree. It will probably look atrocious, and I'll probably fix it after you go to bed.

We'll always eat bagel bites while we watch National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation. Someday you'll wonder how bagel bites have anything to do with Christmas, and I'll direct you to your father because I'd like to know the answer to that one myself.

 And the newest Kozlowski family tradition-- we'll always read How the Grinch Stole Christmas on Christmas Eve. Good choice, little man. Merry first Christmas.

----

*Seven, including my step-brother, because "the only steps in this house are the ones that take you upstairs." [Scuba Dad, circa 1996]

**The year one of my brothers (who was seven, at the time) asked for a real banjo and received a plastic one instead was probably the best Christmas meltdown video of all time.

Friday Facts

Fact #1 Being trapped in a small room with twenty kids as they open-mouth eat cookies and milk is the kind of torture surpassed only by having bamboo chutes shoved under your fingernails. Mouth noises of any kind make me want to run screaming to the closest padded room. Love you, little nuggets, but please oh please figure out how to chew with your mouths shut.

Fact #2 Secrets, secrets are no fun, I WANT TO SHARE WITH EVERYONE. Seriously, is it Christmas yet? My blabbermouth can't handle this.

Fact #3 Otis Redding recorded possibly some of the best Christmas songs ever. And I'm just discovering this now? With only four days to go? Hi, world, I just crawled out from under my rock.

Fact #4 Being proposed to by one of your best girlfriends is almost as awesome as the real thing =] 

Fact #5 Kids need to hear that they're awesome. Even if they don't always act like it, they are. When I gave my kids their gifts today, I also gave them a little note-- not a generic, happyholidaysseeyalater, but something sincere and personal. And even though it took me several hours to write them all, and some of them ended up in the trash at the end of day, the small moment of time when I watched each kid read them was enough to know that it meant something. 

Fact #6 There's just one semester standing between me and graduation and it's pass/fail and I currently have a 4.0 soooo I only have three words for you:

SUMMA CUM LAUDE.

I can go ahead and make that assumption, right? Right. 

148 days.

Friday Facts [on Sunday]

Fact #1: Pinterest is better than any recipe book. Ever. SO MANY crock pot and quick-prep recipes that have made my life a million times easier. I only have five minutes a day to breathe as it is, so trying to make anything that requires more than five ingredients and twenty minutes of my life is not an option. Check out this board for all things yummy in the tummy! So far, I've made the pulled pork, mozzarella grilled cheese, and the pizza bake and they were all DELISH.

Fact #2: It's the most wonderful time of the year-- so act like it. Maybe I have a particularly poor vantage point for this as a server, but seriously, people-- this is the time to be cheerful and jolly. Smile, hold the door open, say kind words. And, for the love of God, use your manners! No one likes a Grinch.

Fact #3: Landon wins the overachiever award for the week. So many big things happening in his little baby world! Just this week, he's started babbling "baba," picking up puffs on his own, and desperately trying to be a creepy-crawler a.k.a. squirming around on the carpet like a boss. You go, little man!

Fact #4: Christmas movies never get old. I've probably watched Elf and Christmas Vacation a combined total of at least eight times already, and it's only December 16th. And the 24-hour marathon of A Christmas Story? Ohhhh the best is yet to come.

Fact #5: Be generous and kind, and not just because it's the holidays. Write a love letter. Donate to a good cause. Go out of your way to do something thoughtful. Even when it seems like you have the short end of the stick, believe me-- someone else is worse off. SO GO! Do nice things and spread good cheer and make the world just a tiny bit brighter.

[belated] six months old!

You're six months old!

Ok, you've been six months old for ten days now BUT this momma has been a super-slacker so here we are. You're a baby. You don't care.

You are a whopping 17lbs! We just started putting you in nine-month clothes, but the twelve-month clothes are on standby. I have a feeling this chunky monkey stuff will be a thing of the past as soon as you start crawling...

...which you are desperate to do! You're starting to notice // get into everything, and if it's out of your reach, your little world falls apart. You haven't figured out how to coordinate your arms into crawling, so you kind of just kick and roll at whatever it is you want. Sometimes you'll try to move your little chunky body forward, which usually results in a face-plant.

You've been sleeping in your big boy bed (the pack and play) for a while, and now you're officially eating at the table in your big boy booster seat! We used to feed you in the bouncer, but felt like it was time to take the next step and you're all about it. You're SO CLOSE to sitting up on your own! Hoping the support from the booster seat helps you reach this milestone.

You eat baby food and cereal three times a day, and we've started throwing in some puffs as well. You really like them, but prefer that momma or daddy feed them to you  because you haven't quite figured out the pincher grip. When you try to pick them up, you get a bunch in your fist and can't figure out how to get them out of your fist and into your mouth. They usually just end up all over the floor, but that's okay. Molly is your new BFF, and lurks around while you eat to lick up whatever you drop =]  We gave you a real banana for the first time, too, and you weren't sure what to think! It kept slipping out of your little hands, so it made you pretty angry after a while. I can't wait to give you more new foods!

We've had the jumperoo for a while now, but you had a breakthrough at the end of this month-- you can JUMP in the JUMPEROO! Until now, you kind of just sat in it and stared at all the toys. And then, out of nowhere, you discovered that you can jump and bounce and be a wild man in there! It's so awesome watching you grow and learn new things.

All dressed up for Thanksgiving!

This month marked your first Thanksgiving, but it didn't phase you in the least. You slept through the festivities at Aunt Nickkey's house, and played in your walker at Gigi's. It will be so awesome next year when you can sit at the table with us and slobber on all the yummy food! So thankful for you, my sweet little man!

Thanksgiving family picture

We're only ten days in, but your seventh month is already full of baby milestones! I can't believe how big you're getting. As much as I loved those first few days of your little life, there is nothing better than watching you grow. Love you, Stinky Cheese!

Friday Facts

Fact #1 I would not survive in the event of a zombie apocalypse. Mike and I just marathon-ed through the first season of The Walking Dead, and let's just say Darwin wasn't kidding. It all boils down to survival of the fittest, and I am not one of them. I don't know how to use a gun, I'm out of shape, and I'm too high-maintenance to live in a tent. There, I said it.

Fact #2 Little people are the best people. I stopped in to visit my kindergarten friends on Wednesday, and they swarmed me. I wish I could just love on those little nuggets forever. So lucky to have spent the semester with them!

Fact #3 I cry every time I see this commercial. I'm going to need a tranquilizer to get through Landon's first day of school.

Fact #4 I'm gonna have to get a second job so I can spoil all of my happily engaged friends! Five weddings in the next two years-- so exciting!

Fact #5 Graduation is in 169 DAYS. As much as I don't want to wish the next six months of Landon's life away, I CAN'T FREAKING WAIT. So close.

Back on the Map

Ok so I didn't die. I wasn't kidnapped or held hostage or living in a third world country without access to the Internet. I was just buried under a giant heap of schoolwork and this is the first time I've had a chance to write something that is not a) a lesson plan or b) a reflection about student teaching. 

igraduateinmayigraduateinmayigraduateinmayigraduateinmayIGRADUATEINMAY!

My first student teaching experience has come to a close, which means I only have one left (ONE!) before graduation. As reluctant as I was to work with kindergarten, I found myself not wanting to leave! Those little people are so awesome. Having a bad day? Hang out with a five-year-old for a few minutes and you'll feel better, guaranteed. Their excitement for learning is absolutely contagious! I wish I could bottle it up and keep it forever. I'm super-psyched to hang out with my second-graders this spring, but it's nice to know that my kindergarten people will be right down the hall =]

It's been kind of a tough month for our family in a lot of ways, so I'm extra glad that the holidays are in full swing! I love this time of year. Our tree is up and stockings are hung. It's so exciting to make Landon part of our holiday traditions! 

Speaking of that little booger, he's been doing some serious growing. He's weighing in at 16 pounds these days, and is plowing through baby food and cereal like a tank. Santa Clause is definitely going to be bringing him some nine-month clothes!

Hoping to be a little more diligent in keeping up with this blog now that I have about five minutes of my life back. But enough about me-- how are you?

five months old

You're five months old! Almost half of a year has passed since you were born. Crazy, right? Crazy.

This month saw the end of the boobs, and it kills me. You don't really seem to care. Your little eyes have been opened to the big wide world of baby food, and you're not looking back. I still feel tinges of mommy-guilt every time I fix you a bottle, and it just plain sucks! It probably sounds silly to most people, but I feel like I'm mourning the loss of a special bond with you that I will never get back. I guess four months of boobs is better than none at all, and you're happy and healthy and that's all that matters. 

We've made it to six month clothes! You were only 13 pounds at your last appointment, but I have a feeling you're pushing sixteen or so by now. Your appetite is practically insatiable, and you're finally sleeping through the night (woop woop!), which means my boy is doing some serious growing! Part of me is sad to pack away all of your too-small clothes, but it's exciting to look forward to all that the coming months will bring.

It's official-- you're sleeping in your own bed! Daddy usually puts you down around 9 or 10, and you sleep until about 4-- sometimes even 6:30! Now don't get me wrong, I'm still a sucker for some momma-baby snuggle time, but it's nice to get a good night's sleep once in a while, too.

We packed up the swing and replaced it with a jumperoo this month! You don't totally appreciate it yet (mostly because you haven't figured out how to jump in it), but I have a feeling it will be a new favorite in the coming weeks.

The only thing you really care about right now is chewing-- ON EVERYTHING. A couple of wittle teeth are trying to break through on the bottom, which means anything you can get your hands on goes straight to your mouth-- momma's hair, blankies, toys, your own fists... And apparently teething = fever = diaper rash, so it's been a really good time in the Kozlowski house. Not.

This month brought with it your first halloween! You went with Daddy to the Mummer's Day Parade, and we bundled you up in a super cute monster hat! You were too small for most of the halloween costumes we found, and this momma isn't crafty enough to make one soooo the hat will have to do.

You are a ROLY POLY and dyyyying to sit up! I have a feeling it won't be long! It's so exciting, watching you learn new things each day, coming into your own. I'm almost afraid to blink! I can't believe it's been five beautiful months already. Love you, sweet boy <3

Student Teaching

If you know me at all, you know that I am Type A to the core. Textbook definition. I am the queen of lists, I would have a panic attack if my planner ever went missing, and the very idea of things not going to plan practically throws me into convulsions. I am a perfectionist down to the last detail, and it bothers me when people don't notice how hard I work.

...and I have friends how?

Don't lie to yourself. You may not be this particular breed of crazy, but there's a part of you that's a closet-nutcase and crazy is crazy, all the same. Mine just happens to get in the way all the time.

The motto of my mentor teacher's classroom is "Take chances, make mistakes, and get messy!" and we spend most of each day reminding our kids that these are words to live by; you have to take a chance and trust yourself in order to learn. And while I might talk the talk, I definitely can't walk the walk.

Here's the thing about student teaching. Through the teacher lens, you are constantly analyzing your students, be it through their work, their behaviors, or otherwise. So as a student teacher, you are strangely aware of the fact that you, too, are being observed under this lens, by your mentor teacher and in your own personal reflections. Translation? At any given moment, I am on the verge of a panic attack because I'm so stressed out over whether or not I'm doing everything right.

You're welcome, Pfizer.

Most people can accept the fact that when you're doing something for the first time, you'll probably make some mistakes. I am not most people. I want so badly for everything to be perfect that I obsess over it. And if I don't receive praise for it? It must have been bad. Chalk that up to being firstborn and praised for everything from day one. Also, I'm clearly a nutcase.

While the goal of student teaching is to learn how to teach, I'm finding that a big part of it for me is learning to be a better student-- to allow myself an opportunity to take chances and learn from them. I can see myself in the kids I'm teaching. The kid who is constantly seeking approval? There I am. The kid who has to tell you every time he does something well? There I am. The kid who's afraid to try something because he might be wrong? There I am. Watching them grow and change over the last few weeks gives me reason to believe that someday, I'll be ready to take the crazy down a notch. Until then, just love me anyway =]

P.S. Slacking much? Sorry for the shortage of blog lovin'. I'm a busy lady! Everyone is happy and healthy and enjoying this beautiful fall weather. T-minus seven months until graduation and it can't get here fast enough!

four months old

You are four months old!

This has been a month full of milestones.

You have mastered the art of rolling every which way! Tummy time doesn't freak you out as much anymore, and you're slowly starting to tolerate it for longer periods of time. When you get yourself really worked up, you grab onto the playmat and attempt to launch yourself forward. Something tells me you'll be army-crawling in no time!

You are not a fan of sitting-- after all, why sit when you can stand? You use your wittle ab muscles to get into a siting position, but then you make your whole body stiff so that you can stand. You're pretty wobbly on your feet, but you're bound and determined to make it happen anyway.

You're getting really great at holding your head up! The whole upper-body thing is a work in progress, but you'll get it soon enough, little man. You're becoming more of a little boy every day, and it's so exciting!

We introduced rice cereal this month, and so far it's smooth sailing. You aren't stoked about it (duh, it isn't boobs), but you're giving it a chance. Momma didn't realize there was a rice cereal hierarchy, so we kind of gave you the cereal with fruit instead of the simple stuff, but you liked it so whatever. I can't wait until we can start trying out some baby food!

This is the month of THE FUSS. 

We think you're teething, but actual teeth have yet to be seen. All the signs are there-- there has to be something in your mouth at all times, you drool all over yourself, and, well, you're generally pissed off 99% of the time-- so I'm thinking teeth are imminent. Hoping we get over this hurdle soon so that I can have my snuggly happy baby back!

Student teaching has begun, and the whole not seeing you part really sucks. We're definitely lucky that Gigi can take care of you while I'm way, but it still breaks my heart every morning when I drop you off. Remember what we talked about-- no "firsts" unless Momma is there! Deal? Deal. Sometimes I wish we could go back to those first few weeks of summer so it could be Momma and baby time, all day every day.

One year ago today, I found out that I was pregnant with you. I can hardly believe it's been that long already! In just one year you've grown from a tiny little bean into my almost-fifteen-pound nugget. Who knows where the next year will take us?  Love you more than you know, little man. Do me a favor? Take your time with this growing up thing.

Friday Letters

WOW what a crazy week! Mike and I kicked it off in NYC on Saturday, celebrating our first anniversary (more on that in another post). When we got back Sunday night, it was go-go-go all week and frankly, I don't know why I'm not passed out in some kind of stress-induced coma right now. Whoever said that working moms "have it all" must also be cracked out on Ativan. 

Enjoy this week's installment of Friday Letters, and be sure to check out this blogger and the original Letters. Happy weekend!

Dear New York Friends,

You're AWESOME! Thank you thank you THANK YOU for a perfect anniversary weekend!

Dear Brooklyn,

Hey, I just met you-- and this is crazy-- but I'm in love with you. Mike and I have always talked about moving to NYC, and I could totally see us raising our little family here. Five year plan?

Dear Landon,

I feel like I've only seen you for five minutes this week, and I hate it. The best part of my day is coming home to your dimply smiles and snuggling you tight, if only for a few minutes before I'm out the door again. Part of me is glad that you won't remember this time, because I'm not around as much as I'd like to be. I keep reminding myself that the hours I spend working and in class are going to pay off for our family in the end, but right now it sucks. It just plain sucks.

Dear Roy Rogers Bacon Cheeseburger,

You were the only semi-real food I ate all day, and you were incredible in all of your 6,000-calorie glory. My tummy (and the lard around my waistline) thanks you.

Dear Motown Artists of the 1960s (and early 70s),

Thank you for calming my child. I don't really know why he has such an affinity for your music, but we're just gonna go with it. You've been the soundtrack to many a kitchen dance sesh, and I don't hate it.

Dear Bank Account,

I'm sorry. Wishing you a speedy recovery.

Dear Mentor Teacher,

Sorry I send you an average of four emails a day. You should know that I'm a crazy perfectionist and it will probably only get worse. Don't hate me.

Dear People of the World,

If anyone else wants to see my boobs, just ask.

Dear Husband,

You're Super Dad. I would be even more of a mess than I already am if it weren't for you. Thanks for putting up with me this year; hope you're ready for a hundred more =]

More Love Letters

Wouldn't it be great to get a bunch of snail mail that tells you how AWESOME you are? I, for one, think it would be way cool. I stumbled across a blog a few days ago that aims to make this happen. The mission at moreloveletters.com is to spread the love, and I am totally on board. Join me?

More Love Letters is collecting letters (words of encouragement, basically) for three people during the month of September. You can read more about them here. Send your letters to the address listed on the website, and they will be included in the bundles being sent to Jessica, Kayla, and Wilson. 

Not sure what to say? Try an uplifting quote or a few encouraging words; sometimes two words can say more than an eighteen-page letter (FRONT AND BACK! ...Friends reference, sorry I'm obsessed).

Grab some pretty pens, write a few lines, and make someone's day a little brighter. And in case you haven't heard it in a while, YOU'RE AWESOME.

Clippers-1, Landon-0

Landon sustained his first injury today, and it was Momma's fault.

That's right, I hurt my baby. And then I cried... like a baby.

We were innocently snuggling in the glider, preparing to read our new favorite story about Little Bear, when I realized his little fingernails needed clipped. Not unusual-- they're about a millimeter away from dagger status at all times. I was just getting started on his right hand when it happened-- he wiggled, I clipped, I missed. I pinched the pad of his sweet little finger in the clippers and I cut through his skin. I made my baby bleed.

For a second he was quiet-- scary quiet-- and looked up at me with big sad eyes. And then he screamed and wailed and cried a cry I've never heard before. I held him close and squeezed him tight and bawled my eyes out. We were a mess.

Daddy came to the rescue with a Muppets band-aid and the promise that I am not the worst mother on the planet (though I sure felt like it). We calmed Landon down, wrapped up his boo-boo, and gave him lots of feel-better kisses. As far as I can tell, he's over it, but I'm pretty sure I'm never clipping his fingernails again.

Friday Letters

One of my favorite bloggers recently started a "Friday Letters" series (which originated here), so I think I'll follow suit. Be sure to check them out, and happy weekend!

Dear Landon:
I'm so glad that I have you all to myself all day long! It's bittersweet, because I know that after this month we won't have that special time very often. Things are going to get a little nutty with school and work and life but you know what? You have Gigi and Daddy to love on while I'm away, and they're pretty awesome! For now, I'm soaking up every minute of your sweet snuggles and dimply smiles, and wishing this time would last forever.

Dear Old Navy:

Stop having cute clothes. I need to buy groceries.

Dear Kindergarten Nuggets:
I MISS YOU! I never thought I would actually say that. You guys were pretty terrifying at first, mostly because there are twenty of you and at least three who need your shoes tied at any given moment. It's incredible how quickly you are learning; you've grown so much in just these first two weeks of school! In a month I'll be responsible for your sweet little sponge-like brains and it's sort of intimidating. Be kind, okay?

Dear Amazon:
I just bought a Kindle Fire in June and you're telling me there's already something bigger and better?! Stop it. We aren't friends anymore.

Dear Baby Weight:
GO AWAY! It seems like these last five pesky pounds aren't sure if they should stay or go, and I'm putting my foot down. You're the only thing that stands between me and skinny jean perfection. BYE.

Dear Frostburg Friends:
Bernie's and karaoke? Best idea we've had in a while. Let's do that again, and maybe this time I won't be feeling it on two beers. Ok, let's face it, I probably will.

Dear Cold:
I know you're there, lurking, waiting to attack. I don't have time for you. Furthermore, if my baby gets sick, we will have words and they will not be nice.

Dear Husband:

You're amazing. When I came home and caught you reading Dr. Seuss to Landon the other night (and snapped a sneaky picture of it like the stalkerazzi that I am), I wanted to melt. I always knew you would be an incredible dad! We celebrate our one-year anniversary next weekend and I can hardly believe it has been that long already. What a year <3

three months old

You are three months old today, and stealing a little bit more of my heart every second.

You've learned so many new things this month! You have mastered the back-to-tummy roll, you love showing the Sassy Go-Go Bugs who's boss...

...and you are the king of thumb-sucking (which I'm sure will be a fun habit to break).

You finally wiggled your way into 3-month clothes, and currently weigh in at 12lbs. 3oz. You are just shy of 24 inches long, and are holding your own in the 50th percentile. You were not a big fan of your first round of shots, and I don't blame you! You were screaming and I was trying so hard not to cry; we looked like a couple of wimps! We need to work on our tough-guy faces for next time.

You are losing your baby hair in awkward patches. In fact, you sort of look like an old homeless man from the back. Don't worry! You'll be rockin' that faux-hawk again in no time.

You have a new best friend, and his name is Snuggle Bunny (well, until Dad comes up with a "manlier" name for it).

For the first time in weeks, you will tolerate sleeping alone as long as you can hug your lovey. Sometimes you even put yourself to sleep! Co-sleeping is making me nervous now that you're a roly-poly, so I'm hoping your new Bunny friend continues to work his magic.

We went on vacation earlier this month, which means you experienced a big first-- your first plane ride! You were a pro, not scared one bit (while your Uncle Max screamed from a few rows back).

We visited your great-grandparents in Florida, and spent the whole week relaxing together. We took you on your first trip to the beach (not a fan) and the zoo (didn't care).

Hoping that we can make this vacation a family tradition!

This month also marks the beginning of a pretty tough year! Momma is student teaching this semester and next, which means you'll be spending lots of quality time with Gigi. We're pretty lucky to have her around =] Just do me a favor and save all the big stuff for me, okay? I'm really hating the idea of potentially missing out on your "firsts" while I'm at school.

I can't wait to see what the next month will bring! You're growing up so fast. Love you to pieces, kid, and don't you forget it <3 

A Collection of Stories

If you know me at all, you know that I'm a Pinterest junkie. Recently, I stumbled upon this quote and thought I would share it with you because I love it that much. 

No one leads a textbook life, but I'm sure I'm not the only one who needs to be reminded once in a while that it's okay; in fact, it would be pretty boring if we did.

"Life is a journey, not a destination." 

[Emerson]

First Impressions

First impressions are pretty monumental. Some people are good at them, and some are, well, downright terrible.

One way or the other, first impressions set the tone for the relationships you will have with people. So what does it mean when, on the first day of student teaching, the principal sees your boobs?

I wish I was kidding.

One of the perks of being a mom who breastfeeds is the intimate relationship I've formed with my breast pump. By intimate relationship, I actually mean we're frenemies; pumping is the bane of my existence. But since student teaching means I'm away from my sweet boy for most of the day, I have to make time to pump at school. My mentor teacher located an unused conference room, showed me how to lock the door, and said I should be perfectly fine in there.

False.

There I was, half-naked and holding two plastic cones to my chest, when Someone jiggled the door knob. It was locked, so I figured I was safe. Not one minute later, Someone returned with the jingle-jangle of keys. This can't be good. The key went in, the door opened, and there stood the principal.

I wanted to disappear.

It was like a real-life train wreck, with "I'm so sorry!"s and stammered half-sentences falling all around us against the whirring-buzzing soundtrack of my breast pump. Can you picture it? Don't. There are no words.

She quickly closed and re-locked the door as I attempted to recover what was left of my dignity while still managing to hold these tools of torture to my chest. I made a point of stopping by her office later to make light out of what was easily one of the most mortifying moments of my life, and we both had a good laugh. 

I would like to think that somewhere along the way, the principal will associate me with things like stellar classroom management and brag-worthy lesson plans; she'll say things to her colleagues like, "Boy, is she an expert on Common Core!" and "She's super awesome at differentiating instruction!" and "Gee, I'm glad I hired her!" (please?!) But more likely than not, whether I'm a nobody or Teacher of the Year, that first impression is going to stick. I will always be remembered as that student teacher,
The Girl with the Breast Pump.

(Who would really love to be employed in the upcoming school year, please and thank you.)

...Like a Boss

Every time I drive past a used car lot, I think of the first time I was grounded.

Stay with me.

The details are a little fuzzy, but cut me some slack because I was only five. All I know for sure is that I was with my parents at a used car lot, and it was dark outside. In the distance, I saw it-- gleaming in the light of a fluorescent lamppost, a pile of tattered plastic bunting.

And by tattered plastic bunting, I mean decorative flags that would surely match the Pocahontas motif in my bedroom. I would decorate with all the colors of the wind, and it would be spectacular.

I asked my parents if I could take it home, and they said no, because that would be stealing and it was trash anyway. Um, hello-- had they never heard the universal motto of yard sales? One person's trash is another's treasure. And it would look great in a Pocahontas room.

Ever the problem-solver, I decided if I wanted to take it anyway, I had to ball it up and stuff it into my coat. I don't know if it was the sheer puffiness of my neon coat a la 1995, or the fact that my parents were distracted by cars and my two younger siblings, but they didn't seem to notice. I was totally getting away with it, like a boss.

It wasn't until we were driving home that it occurred to me that my parents might eventually notice this "trash" (how dare they) once it was taped to my bedroom walls. Panic set in. What was I supposed to do with this stuff? Take it out of my coat right now and admit the jig is up? I would get in trouble for taking it. Throw it in the trash when we got home? They would find it, and I would still get in trouble for taking it. Hide it in a dark corner of my closet? Bingo.

I committed to this plan and no one was the wiser, until my mom decided to clean. In my bedroom. In my closet. 

Boss status, retracted.

I don't totally remember how the next part went-- the part between the finding and the punishing-- but I imagine my mom coaxed me into telling on myself before actually producing the evidence. She's always been good at that, like a special mom superpower that I can only HOPE to possess someday. All I know for sure is that I came home from my exhausting day of finger painting and snack time (kindergarten, as it should be) only to find out that she'd thrown away my avant-garde decor and I was grounded. Yes, you heard me correctly-- I was five, and I was grounded.

Boss status, reinstated.

When I told my friends at school the next day, they could hardly believe their little ears; none of us had ever been grounded. This, coming right after my exile to the Red Square Table for sticking a pencil up my nose (on a dare, I'll have you know), basically made me a kindergarten badass. So much street cred.

I remember my little friends coming to the yard to play after school, and all I could do was pout at them through the sliding glass doors while my mom told them I could not come out to play. This must be what prison's like. While I was supposed to be taking this opportunity to learn a lesson in lying, I resolved to put more energy behind not getting caught.

[My Mom and I, pre-stolen-bunting fiasco]

This was an endeavor I pursued for the rest of my childhood. And just when I thought I could pull one over on her, my mom was quick to put me in my place. There are only a few instances where I actually got away with anything, and they are obviously the crowning moments of my adolescence.

But here's the thing-- it's all of her sneaky mom-ness that turned me into a good kid. All those times she hacked her way into my MySpace account and threatened to ambush dates and sleepovers and mall-ratting (this woman had eyes everywhere) kept me on my toes, and wary of ever truly testing my boundaries. It wasn't until I was safely 200 miles away in the mountains of central Pennsylvania that I did anything remotely questionable, and even then I somehow managed to stay on the dean's list and off of the 6'oclock news.

Even now that I'm all grown up (well, mostly), I still have the feeling that she's looking over my shoulder with every decision that I make-- and I think that's a good thing. While she might not be able to ground me anymore, I have what has become an inherent need not to disappoint her. It's all of her sneaky mom-ness that has turned me into a good person.

That is easily the single hardest job of a parent, and I hope I can pull it off just as well. I hope my kids push their limits just far enough to find out where they are. I hope they get away with enough things that they maintain the confidence to defy me once in a while, just so that I can put them back in their place (like a boss). I hope that in another five or ten years, I'm the one turning their friends away at the sliding glass doors while they plot new ways to get away with things. Most of all, I hope that I've inherited enough sneaky mom-ness to turn them into good kids.

two months old

Two months, TOO FAST.

Appropriately, so much of this month can be recounted in twos:

Two big milestones-- you're smiling all the time and starting to find your little voice! Don't ask me why, but you seem to be the most outgoing when you're on the changing table. You stare up at me and smile from ear to ear, ooh-ing and ahh-ing like you're telling me a story. You're starting to experiment with facial expressions, too; it's so exciting to watch the beginnings of your personality come to life.

Two books read (almost) every night while we snuggle in the glider for your 3AM feeding. Our favorites so far are Curious George, The Cat in the Hat, Where the Wild Things Are, and Oh the Places You'll Go. I just ordered some books from The Little Critter collection and I know you're going to love them! Call me crazy, but even though you don't understand what I'm reading to you it is so, so important-- and the beginning of a very special bond =]

Two songs that calm you down, without fail-- Stand By Me and The Way You Do the Things You Do. Clearly, someone has an affinity for Motown, and I don't hate it. 

Two bottles of gas drops emptied, because you are your father's child.

Two exhausted parents, who gave in and embraced co-sleeping with open arms. I'm sure we'll be kicking ourselves one day when you're six and still sneaking into our bed at night, but I'm over it because right now it means I get to SLEEP.

Two little watchful eyes, getting so good at focusing on new things and observing your surroundings. You love checking out your reflection and watching things that spin, like ceiling fans and the bird mobile on your swing. We still can't tell if your eyes are going to be blue or brown, but we should know soon!

Two piles of newborn clothes, ready to be packed away. A part of me is sad that those first precious weeks of your life have come and gone, but I'm so excited for what's to come. You are growing more and more every day-- holding your little head up, practicing sitting up like a big boy in your Bumbo seat, kicking your way across the carpet during tummy time. I can see how much you've changed in the way your face has filled out, in the way your skinny frog legs are turning into chunky baby thighs. Watching you grow and learn and come into your own is easily the best part of every day, and I can't wait to see who you become.

Love you to the moon and back, my sweet boy.

----

"Today you are you, that is truer than true. There is no one alive who is youer than you."

Dr. Seuss