The little things in life

This weekend Mark was out of town, so it was Carter and I on our own. I wasn't sure what I was going to do, but it was supposed to be beautiful weather and I was in a good mood, so I was determined to have fun. And I did. This weekend was not about conquering any major life goals or having major adventures to tell about. It was about enjoying the little things in life. Saturday morning, I put on Raffi (a kid's CD that I listened to when I was little, so I knew all the words) and made cookies. I sang at the top of my lungs, and Carter did his best to follow along. We danced and jumped and twirled in the living room. Between the singing and the dancing, we made and ate chocolate chip cookie dough. You would have thought we won the lottery at 6:30am this Saturday. We were the two happiest souls in that living room. Here's a picture of Carter getting his first taste of cookie dough.

We also had lots of people over to eat, something I enjoy doing when I have the time to prepare and have a clean house. We had "the grandmas" over for lunch on Saturday, and we had a lovely time eating out on the deck. It made me proud to be able to have them over in my house on the deck Mark built with the little boy I'm raising. One of my best friends, Amy, also came over for one of the last times because she is moving to PA. Carter even gave us the gift of taking a two hour nap so she and I could have some time to talk. Lastly, we had our friends Dave and Kelly over tonight for dinner, and they have a new baby. After dinner I had a chance to hold Wyatt, and as soon as he was in my arms, Carter broke down. I've never seen him show jealousy before, but it was as clear as if he said it. It made me wonder what it will be like to eventually have a second kid. Not easy, I'm thinking.

Since Amy finally showed me how to post pictures, I have a few other precious ones to share with you. They show some of those little things in life not to take for granted. Mark may not approve of one (I'm sure you can guess which) but it's just too cute to keep to myself.

This is Mark teaching Carter just how fun sitting on the toilet can be if you've got something good to read.


Mark and Carter fiddling with the grill.

A time to...

Warning: The following is highly philosophical and full of relationship-speak. Do not read if in search of light-hearted humor.

On our "hot date" at the Breckenridge Brewery last night, Mark and I had quite a deep conversation, during which we began discussing the dynamics of relationships and how people's personalities can be influenced by them. Being the teachers we are, Mark came up with the graphic organizer of a Venn Diagram, and I jumped right on board. Basically, we concluded that people have many characteristics that show themselves at one time or another, and we highlight those based on our current circumstances. For example, when we are dating, we highlight the ones we have in common with the other person, the overlapping part of our circles in our Venn Diagram. We feel so in sync and like-minded with the other person. It's not faking who we are; it truly is a matter of emphasizing certain traits.

However, we can't ignore all those other traits that make us up. Stress, life changes, or a new environment might coax out those other characteristics. Let me tell you, an addition to the family certainly does. Necessity of domesticity when having a baby forces my organized, on-task, schedule-loving self out of hiding and to the forefront of my personality. My free-spirited, LNT, let's-be-spontaneous self gets shoved to the bottom of the bag. That self hasn't left completely, but it's definitely not in the spotlight.

So, after all that philosophizing, venn diagram drawing, and analyzing, what's the point? The point is, how do we maintain relationships based on common traits when the common traits aren't highlighted by our current situation? As Mark and I have talked about, it's not the things we do that we have in common; those are just our avenues to whatever makes us click. So how do we find new avenues to those same ends? That's the question, I guess. Not just for us, but for everyone in a relationship, whether it be friendly, familial, or romantic. When life changes, how do we change to maintain what we have, but in a new way?

Let me know if you've found the magical solution.

This song kept running through my head as I was writing. Maybe the answer's in there somewhere.

To every thing, turn, turn, turn
There is a season, turn, turn, turn
And a time to every purpose under heaven
A time to be born, a time to die
A time to plant, a time to reap
A time to kill, a time to heal
A time to laugh, a time to weep

To everything, turn, turn, turn
There is a season, turn, turn, turn
And a time to every purpose under heaven
A time to build up, a time to break down
A time to dance, a time to mourn
A time to cast away stones
A time to gather stones together

To everything, turn, turn, turn
There is a season, turn, turn, turn
And a time to every purpose under heaven
A time of love, a time of hate
A time of war, a time of peace
A time you may embrace
A time to refrain from embracing

To everything, turn, turn, turn
There is a season, turn, turn, turn
And a time to every purpose under heaven
A time to gain, a time to lose
A time to rend, a time to sew
A time to love, a time to hate
A time for peace, I swear it's not too late

Dust dust, sweep sweep

Today is a pensive day. I spend much of Friday at work getting lessons ready for the next week. I have lots of time at my desk to be productive, but the most productive thing I seem to do is think. After the tornado of a week I've had, I tend to drift into reflection. I open my computer to write a lesson and find myself posting here. It's becoming my therapy, my confessional. It feels like house-cleaning for my spirit. Recording my soul's struggles feels like dropping off a big load of stuff to Goodwill. It leaves me with more space and a twinge of virtuosity.

One of my favorite authors of the moment is Anne LaMott. She has written a variety of books, but my favorite work of hers is autobiographical. She is so honest and true to herself. She speaks of the dark parts of herself that I would be afraid to let anyone see. I saw her speak at a local bookstore recently, and I wondered how she doesn't just blush with the knowledge that everyone in the room knows about her (not-so-)secrets. It gives me courage to at least want to do the same. I'm not ready yet, but maybe one day. I try to justify it by thinking that it would be easier in a book when it's all lumped together, not strung out paragraph by paragraph in multiple entries.

Thoughts on marriage is one of those things I need to clean out of my soul closet. I think there is still this antiquated mentality that what goes on in your marriage should stay between the two of you. Admitting it's hard or that you have to work at it or that it not all daisies and roses is a sign of failure. Any sort of complaint is registered with the gossip police as "they're having problems," not, "they're totally normal and there's no news to report." Mark and I are fine. Fine as any other normal couple out there, but that doesn't mean there aren't hard parts.

For instance, I thought it was hard trying to share responsibilities with my sister when we were growing up. We'd fight over who had to clean the bathroom and whose turn it was to feed the dog. That was nothing. We had the higher powers of mom and dad to step in and mediate. They told us who had to do what and what would happen if we didn't. We'd fight about it and then it'd be over. Now there's none of that. Couples have to act all grown up and civilized. There's no one around telling us we'll lose TV for the week if we don't do our chores. We have no other motivator but ourselves to share the load and get things done. Because Mark and I don't see eye to eye on what chores are important to do when, we are constantly compromising and trying to accommodate the other person. Sometimes I just want to be four again and stomp my foot and throw a temper tantrum. Maybe we need to just call each other "poopy faces" and be done with it.

Another ponderance deep down is parenting. Of course you hear a million times that being a mom is the hardest thing you'll ever do. And yes, that's true, but not one bit in the way I thought it would be. I really don't mind the diaper changing and financial burden. I've felt pretty confident with decisions I've made that will affect Carter long-term like discipine and day care. The hard part is to not forget that part of myself that existed before Carter and before marriage. The responsibilities of home and husband and kid seem to push away that carefree part of me. I have always been great at making lists, being organized, getting things done. Being spontaneous and impulsive fit in the spaces between. But with more "grown-uppy" stuff in my life, that little kid's voice inside me gets harder to hear. I notice I have to make more of an effort to listen to that quiet, innocent voice. What came so naturally before requires more mindful attention and effort. It's finding that balance between enjoying the moment and and not feeling like my life is out of control (a messy house can do that to me.)

I think that might be enough mental house-cleaning for now. It wasn't anything major, certainly not a metaphorical couch or desk, just a few knick-knacks here and there that needed to be taken to Goodwill. Maybe it's one step farther in being true to myself and getting to know who I am as I evolve with life. I think I feel a little better now.

The Roller Coaster

For the past week, Mark and I have been riding the house-hunting roller coaster. Sunday morning we innocently decided to take Winston and Carter for a walk in the woods near where we used to live. It's an area we love and would love to move back to, but there's never anything for sale, much less in our price range. Well, we just happened to drive by a great house right on the creek that was for sale. Even though we thought it would be way out of our price range, we thought we'd just call to see. Our former realtor answered and even recognized us. The house was much lower priced than we thought, so we set up a showing for that afternoon. And we fell in love with the place. It seemed so serendipitous that it was meant to be.

And that's when we boarded the roller coaster. We began talking about making an offer, then found out someone already had and were in the process of going under contract. Then the contract fell through but we found out about foundation problems. During all of this, Mark and I are trying to learn about how to sell our house while under contract with another house. An "offer with a contingency" entered our vocabulary. We learned about bridge loans and first right of refusal. We had a comparative analysis done to estimate what we could get for our house and became fluent in using the mortgage calculator. We crunched numbers and tried to figure out what our income would be when I start my new job. And we worked on scheduling showings at other comparably priced properties in the area. Did I mention this was all done over three days? With full-time jobs and a toddler? Oh, and WInston got sprayed by a skunk on Wednesday.

So, after all that, we finally decided it was too much of a risk too far out of our price range with too little information. After feeling like the house was slipping through our fingers as other people were preparing to make offers, we finally let it go. It was sad to feel like we were giving up an opportunity that wouldn't come along again, but a bit of a relief to not wonder whether we were rushing in too fast without all the facts.

But of course, now that we've started the process, it's hard to stop. I already have another house I want to look at and have begun thinking about what we need to do our house to get it ready to show. But I think we'd both like to wait until we know what my salary will be (kind of an important unknown) and know we'll be in town for awhile (we're out of town for what feels like most of June). We'll see. I think we've stepped off the roller coaster for now, but we're already in line to ride it again soon.

beyond climbing

Mark and I are coming to the realization that dragging Carter along on everything we want to do may make us not want to do it. For example, we've tried taking Carter with us to celebratory dinners at semi-nice restaurants. After chasing Carter around the place and doing everything we can to get three bites in our mouths before Carter's bored, we end up wishing we could have done drive-through at McDonald's. Climbing, to some extent, has become one of those instances.

The great thing about rock climbing is you pretend you're exercising and doing something hardcore, when really you're just going to lounge in the sun with friends and maybe climb a route or two every once in awhile. Bringing a baby along on an outing like that totally changes it. It's like taking a field trip through a war zone. There are ropes to trip on, pebbles to slip on, and cacti to sit on. It's not quite the relaxing trip you originally set out for. Again, you begin to dream of McDonald's and that great kid-proof playland they've got.

Not having a ton of people to go out climbing with on my own, I went on Craigslist, the resource for absolutely everything, and found a girl who had posted looking for people to climb with. On Thursday after work I met her and some of her friends in Golden (a local sport-climbing mecca). It was great. I had no responsibility other than the climber on the other end of my rope. I climbes some hard routes I've never tried before. I talked with some people who are going mountaineering in Peru next month. We discussed the financial and social situation in Venezuela. I learned about a non-profit organization that helps employ people with barriers.

I'm learning that I really have a need to be around new people who expose me to new ideas and who do not already know everything about me. Of course I wouldn't trade my family and good friends for anything, but a little change every once in awhile is a good thing. It makes me appreciate what I have and also piques my interest about things I had never thought about before. I don't think Mark and I have resigned ourselves to spending every date at McDonald's with Carter, but I'm glad I've found a way to do some carefree climbing. It lifts my spirit.

A breath of fresh air

This weekend was absolutely gorgeous...record-breaking temperatures, colorado blue skies, the first great weekend of the season. Mark and I made all sorts of plans earlier in the week to take advantage of the weather. And then Carter came home sick on Friday. Full out sick with a fever of 103.5, runny nose, looking miserable. So Mark and I had to take a deep breath and revise our weekend plans.

Since we had bought a bike trailer for Carter earlier in the week, we decided to take Saturday to pull together the biking project. Mark's new bike with fancy disc brakes wouldn't accommodate the trailer attachment, so Mark took some time to weld together a modification (which works beautifully, I might add). Mark refused to be seen with me on my bike that has been vandalized with white paint, white lightning he calls it, so we also fixed up Mark's old bike for me to ride, complete with new seat, handle grips, and tire. We did have a bit of a debate over pedals...$9 plastic ones or $40 metal ones...I never even knew there was a difference and was happy with plastic, but Mark felt there was no reason to skimp. We compromised by putting on my pedals from my other bike until I found some clip-in cycling shoes.

By about 5pm the project was done and we were ready to roll. With Carter in his trailer attached to Mark's bike, and I on my new and improved set of wheels, we were off. (Winston flipped us off from the front window, saying not only have we taken away his backyard, now we're not even taking him with us on our outdoor adventures. We may as well put a gun to his head.)

We turned our tires toward Bear Creek Lake Park, a beautiful Open Space/Park just over the hill from us. It was about 75 degrees and that beautiful time of night where the sun's rays are partly blocked by the mountains, so the light's a bit softer. The faint breeze and smooth-riding cart gently swayed sick Carter to sleep. Mark and I relished in finally getting outside TOGETHER without having to constantly worry whether Carter had found some nightshade to eat or a mountain lion to play with.

We tentatively rode past the turn-off we had agreed to take if Carter hated the whole thing and set our sights on Willy's Wings. We made it all the way there without a single snafu and spent much of the ride concluding that the bike trailer had solved most of the world's problems...or at least our problem trying to get outside together with Carter in tow.

It was one of those delicious moments in life where you feel like something from above is shining down on you and giving you a chance to regain that belief that life is good. Mark and I actually got to eat a meal without chasing Carter (one of the few benefits of a sick kid--he's content to just sit in your lap and be) and just enjoy the scenery. I felt like every breath rejuvenated me and gave me one more ounce of energy to deal with what life throws at you. It was an evening to remember.