not since 1950...

Snow.
In October.
In metro-New York.

If I hadn't been here to actually experience the storm and it's continuing aftermath, I'd never have believed it. So, what's the big deal about 6" of snow?  New Yorkers see snow every year so, why would this be such a huge deal? 

One word: Leaves. 

Add 6" of very heavy, wet snow to trees that are still completely full of leaves, just beginning their color changes, and you have a disaster on your hands.  Trees that just hours before stood tall and proud, were bent, broken and some completely toppled under the weight.  Those same weighted limbs came down on power and telephone lines, effectively crippling dozens of towns and plunged millions into the dark. 

The storm started with a few innocent looking flurries around 11:00 am on Saturday.  My parents were in town to visit for the weekend and, deciding that being outside wasn't the best option, we packed up and headed to the mall.  Not a problem getting there but, when we emerged from the parking garage three hours later and made our way out of the mall lots and to the highway we were plunged into what felt like an instant time warp.  It looked like January!

The ride home normally takes about 15 minutes.  Let's just say it was far longer this time.  My mom entertained G in the the back seat by singing the ABC song over, and over..and over to his delight.  Each time she would stop, he'd sign and sweetly request, "More?"  Who could resist?

As we finally crawled through traffic into town, I asked my Dad to snap this photo of our sign with my phone.  All decked out for Halloween...or is it Christmas? You decide.

We learned on our way home from the mall that we were without power and so were my in-laws (where my parents were staying).  So, we ordered a pizza for dinner and picked it up before driving the final few blocks home.  Pizza works in every situation, right?

We toughed it out at home that first night.  The house was still warm and we were able to keep G entertained after dark by using a few jar candles and a few strategically placed head lamps (hung from wall frames, ceiling fans, etc.).  The gear of a bridge climbing husband is very handy in a power emergency. By morning, the house was measuring 65 degrees. We all packed up and went out once again. This time though, the roads were clear, there was bright sunshine and the snow was already melting away.  An odd contrast against the green leaves and grass!  That night, knowing the temps would drop off further, we took our relatives across town up on the offer of staying at their fully powered home. 

By Monday at 4:30 pm, our power was blissfully restored.  We lost all of the food in our fridge and a few things in the freezer.  But, thanks to vacuum sealing and having a full drawer, our entire freezer stock of meat was still frozen solid!  Everything was back to normal in our little world.  Or, was it?

Tuesday afternoon, on my way home from work, I went to the grocery store to stock back up on the perishables we had lost.  It never crossed my mind that our regular grocery store a town over would have been affected worse than we had.  Boy, was that wrong!  It turned out their power had only been restored a couple of hours before I walked through the doors.  The staff were working on overdrive trying to re-stock departments from the generator powered coolers and freezer where everything had been moved days before.  I stood in the aisles gaping at what I saw until I finally came to my senses and snapped a few photos for posterity. 

You want produce?  So sorry.

Ice cream, yogurt, eggs, juice, cheese? Nada.

The voice over in my head played, "You have now entered the Twilight Zone." Slowly, slowly, life is returning to normal.  And, I admit to not at all being cut out to be a pioneer woman!

the destruction of a fruit pop...

Introducing homemade frozen fruit pops to G's snack selection this summer was simultaneously a very good and very bad idea.

Good idea:
- helps beat the heat
- healthy
- actually gets him to sit for more than 5 minutes
- he loves them

Bad idea:
- he wants a "pop" all. the. time.
- right after his morning milk, he takes my hand, pulls me over to the freezer and asks, "Pop?" To which I answer, "Not right now George." Insert crying toddler.
- minutes after finishing breakfast, he takes my hand, pulls me over to the freezer and asks, "Pop?" To which I answer, "Not right now George." Insert crying toddler.
- upon waking from a nap, he takes my hand, pulls me over to the freezer and asks, "Pop?" To which I answer, "Not right now George." Insert crying toddler.

You get the point, right?  I think he would eat a dozen pops a day if allowed.  Luckily, every day, he does get one (and sometimes a second) pop and I get to be the "Yes!" mom.  For that, I am handsomely rewarded with seeing this:

And, yes, I have moved on to less stain-er-iffic fruit combinations after the first very colorful batch.  It's a journey and an adventure...

i couldn't make this stuff up if i tried...

I don't post a  whole lot about my job here because, well, there are too many reasons to count.  Though I like most of what I do, there are also definite, huge drawbacks.  The main office location is one of those many negatives. But, every once in a while something happens at work that bears sharing.  Episodes that are generally filed under: "You can't make this stuff up." 

Several weeks ago, as I was setting up for a CPR class, students started coming in one by one.  They would say hello, quietly choose a seat and settle in. One of the last students to arrive, blazed into the room in a manner all her own.  Her presentation was, um...confusing. Most students come to class dressed in business casual attire or dressed down in jeans and t-shirts, both completely appropriate for the training. 

Not this one.

She was dressed in denim hot pants, a plunging v-neck shirt that made an impressive display of her wares and a 4 inch high rhinestone tiara, complete with matching chandelier necklace. She loudly introduced herself and asked, "Are you a fun trainer or, should I plan to fall asleep?" Awesome. Later in the day, this same individual came back form the lunch break 20 minutes late explaining, "Well, I already know this stuff anyway."  That is when I noticed what I had somehow overlooked that morning.  She had a full set of upper and lower rhinestone grillz. Double awesome.

Fast forward to this morning. 

I work in one of the oldest buildings in the Bronx.  Old as in, not quite ready to be condemned but, it's time is coming. Things work when they want to around here.  Non-essential things like elevators, computer servers, plumbing and air conditioning. Thank you antiquated wiring and shoddy patch jobs.

Needing to use the facilities this morning, I approached the door of the only bathroom in our office (one stall, unisex, for over 50 employees).  The door was locked but, knocking revealed that it was not occupied.  I walked upstairs to our other floor of offices and inquired about a key. "Oh, there's no key.  The office manager has a special trick to open it with a credit card but, he's not in right now." That makes total sense.

So, I walked through the office to the one bathroom on that floor (again, one stall, unisex, for over 50 employees).  It was unoccupied but, after flipping the light switch several times, the light would not come on.  Which would be fine except for the fact that there is no other light source in the bathroom and trying to navigate the plumbing in the complete, pitch black darkness was not happening.  A co-worker walked past and I asked her advice, "Yeah, that light is temperamental.  Stand on your tip toes and jiggle the light bulb.  That works sometimes.  Or, you know, there is always the public bathroom in the hallway." Referring to the bathroom that is used for the mandated drug testing office down the hall. Thankfully the light jiggling trick worked.

Hi ho, hi ho, back to work I go...

(not nearly) wordless wednesday: independence day and ice cream...

Monday, July 4th.  Independence Day.

We had no grand plans.  Mr. Boom had spent the weekend sick on the couch while G and I grocery shopped, played in the a/c and took a few trips to the park.  For the actual holiday, we had decided to stay close to home and have a barbeque at my in-law's for dinner.  At around 6:00 am, I heard George start to make his waking noises over the monitor.  Since he usually plays quietly in his crib for another 20 minutes or so, I snuggled back into my pillows and drifted off.  Not for long.  Suddenly, his babbling sounded much closer than it should.  Mr. Boom woke with a start and said, "Were those footsteps?" 

You can guess where this is going, right?

I bolted out of bed and slowly opened G's door only to find him standing right inside his room, feet on the floor, grinning up at me. 

Independence Day indeed, the day that our barely 18 month old toddler decided he would climb out of his crib for the first time. 

On July 5th, he decided to continue the trend, with a twist.  When I went into his room yesterday morning, I found him sitting cross-legged on the changing pad on his dresser, happily smearing diaper cream on himself.  Clearly we need to remedy the bed situation immediately, if not sooner.  Of course, we waited too long to order the toddler bed conversion kit for his crib and it is now discontinued.  If anyone has a brilliant idea to remedy this minor issue, I'm taking suggestions!

George should be spelled: M.i.s.c.h.i.e.f.

Though he is mischief personified, he is also the sweetest, funniest kid I which brings me to the ice cream portion of this post.  Messily enjoying a cone at the end of our 4th of July cookout...

Lapping up every last drop...can you stand it?!?!?

crying over spilled coffee: tale from a true klutz...

I am a klutz.  I drop things, stub my toes and trip over things occasionally constantly.  It is an annoying, messy and sometimes painful part of who I am.  Despite trying very hard to avoid spills they just happen and happen regularly.

This is the mug that my mom gave to me when I became a mom myself.  The mug that has held the coffee that has carried me through countless mornings after sleep deprived nights.  The mug I have sipped from every single day since arriving home with our tiny little bundle of George. A large mug for copious amounts of caffeine, fitting perfectly in my hand and the caricature bearing a striking resemblance to my morning self.

Today, I put my coffee mug on the counter and set about the task of washing dishes and cleaning up the kitchen from breakfast. Deciding that I had enough coffee for the day, I picked up my mug to spill the last of the liquid and wash it out.  Maybe there was too much soap on my hands or maybe it was just my klutzy moment of the day but CRASH! in an instant it was out of my hands, coffee splashing a mess everywhere, and broken.

Now, sadly, this is my poor mug:

The klutz strikes again, leaving me mugless and not a happy camper. *sigh*

wishing it true: a conversation...

On Thursday evening, I was getting George changed into a new diaper and his pajamas and talking to Mr. Boom at the same time.

Me: G's box of diapers should arrive any minute.

Hubs: Do you have package delivery ESP?

Me: Ha! No, I got an e-mail they had shipped and will arrive today. UPS usually comes by about this time.

As we walked out of George's room, moving on to another topic, the doorbell rang. I ran downstairs to see the jumbo shipping box of Pampers at the door. Strange timing. When I walked back in the house I confirmed that the diapers had arrived, right on cue.

Mr. Boom: Quick! Say, "A million dollars should be arriving any minute!"

boys and their toys...

Since we found out our first child would be a boy, my husband had a dream that his son would follow in his footsteps and play lacrosse.  When I was still pregnant, we found ourselves in a sports superstore one day and this conversation ensued:

Hubs: "Oh look!  A mini lacrosse set and it's on sale!  Let's get it."

Me: "Ummm, I'm still pregnant and we have no where to store it.  We are already storing the carseat, travel system, exersaucer, bouncy seat and other baby essentials we haven't even set up yet. Because, you know, I'm still pregnant."

Hubs: "But, he will USE this."

Me: When he's three or four? We don't have the space."

Hubs: "Harumph. Fine."

Fast forward to this past weekend.  My youngest cousin is in his senior year of college (holy cow does that make me feel old!!!) and we were able to travel to see one of his very last lacrosse games. We took G last year but, being just 4 months old, the game was less than intriguing for him.  This year was a different matter.  We arrived just at the start of the second quarter and he exclaimed loudly when he saw the big boys playing out on the field. He wanted to be part of that team in the worst way...

Because we are horribly mean responsible parents and would not allow him in the game, instead corraling him on the sidelines and the surrounding area, he eventually cooled his jets and amused himself by climbing the bleachers, flirting with the female spectators and trying to get to a bright yellow car in the parking lot. 

Then, with five minutes left in the game, he spotted the objects of his desire.  A perfect line of about forty lacrosse sticks on the sideline.  Lunge. Scream, Flail. Want.  Wrestling all 24.7 pounds of this determined toddler for five minutes of game time was no small feat.  When G sets his mind to something, that is that.  So when the game finally, blessedly ended (with my cousin's team winning!!!), we let him go...

VICTORY!!!!!

The pride on my husband's face was unforgettable.  Perhaps we should have gotten that junior set after all.

on kindness and compassion...

One day last week George and I made a Target run.  The closest to our home is in a multi-level center that also includes a movie theater, grocery store and a Barnes and Noble. The nice thing is that you can access all stores and levels through the interior elevators - perfect for this frigid winter. I've been taking G to this particular B&N since he started cruising because they have a large Thomas the Train table in the children's book section and (usually) have trains for children of shoppers to play on the tracks.

This day when we arrived at the table, George seemed to remember and made a run for it, bending down to say "hi" to the train faces on the sides of the table and running his chubby little fingers along the tracks.  But, there were no trains to be had.  Another little boy, a three year old, was playing with trains he had brought from home.  George occupied himself following the boy around, chattering and interested in every little movement.  The boy's nanny introduced herself and pulled a matchbox car from her pocket, offering it for George to borrow.  He saw the shiny little sedan and squealed with delight as he took it from the woman's outstretched hand and proceeded to the table.

That's when it happened.

The other boy saw George playing with his car, turned the most unnatural shade of deep red and began to scream.  Screamed so loud, so long and so frighteningly that other shoppers started to gather. 

George stood, rooted to his place, looking at the boy with a startled expression while I moved to stand at his side.  The boy's caretaker was able to soothe him after a couple of minutes (not moments, minutes).  As he gave my baby the side-eye and went back to playing with his trains, G approached him.  One step from the boy, George stretched out his little hand with the car in his palm, returning the toy.

In awe of my tiny son at that moment, I wondered how he knew to practice kindness and compassion at such a tender age. He knew the right thing to do in that moment, without suggestion, without coaxing.  I do believe that people start out innately good and this one moment restored my faith in that belief.  Reflecting on this today, I remembered this passage referring to "the Golden Rule":

"But I tell you who hear me: Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you. If someone strikes you on one cheek, turn to him the other also. If someone takes your cloak, do not stop him from taking your tunic. Give to everyone who asks you, and if anyone takes what belongs to you, do not demand it back. Do to others as you would have them do to you." Luke 6:27-31

I live in hope that I am a positive role model and that my husband and I will raise George to be a good, kind man. What I know for sure is that, right now, he is the sweetest boy a Mama could dream.

working mom wednesday: good and bad...

This week’s Working Mommy Wednesday prompts are:

#1) I'm not good at... OR #2) I'm very good at...
 
Funny story: I walked around Target on my lunch hour yesterday and was thinking about what I would write for this post.  Shopping alone is a rarity and it's hard to just stay present in the moment. I end up strolling through aisles trying to plan in advance for birthdays, cards to send, toiletries we may soon need and to be alert for sales.  Not quite as restful as it used to be.  But, those rare trips are also used for thinking.  Mulling over ideas and occasionally being hit with a mild stroke of inspiration.  As I looked around for a birthday gift to send to my cousin's daughter, it struck me.  I knew exactly what I would write for what I'm good at and not.
 
Then, I sat down at the computer to type it out and *poof* 
 
Gone.
 
I am very clearly not good at remembering things unless they are written down. 
 
What I am good at is making lists.  I never take a trip to the grocery store anymore without a very detailed list in hand.  I have post-it notes stuck around my computer monitor labeled with dates and to-do items.  When an occasion arises to send out cards, I have a list ready to check off.
 
True, I've always been a list person.  Writing is one of the ways I learn and absorb information.  I used to make lists and just that process alone was enough to help me remember, not having to refer back very often.  Now, with Mommy brain, lists rule my life, keep me going, provide a semblance of organization.
 
My name is Jen. 
 
I make lists.
 
For sanity's sake.

wordless wednesday: basket case...

{also, notice the ever present remote  control in his vice grip...ha!}

And a reminder...my GIVEAWAY for 25 Shutterfly.com photo cards is still open!  Yesterday's post has all of the entry details :)

{nearly} wordless wednesday: 1st carousel ride...

G and I took a little road trip yesterday to meet my cousin and her girls at the mall. We chose that spot because of it's various play spaces and it ended up being a smart move.  As we were on our way to lunch, there was no avoiding passing the carousel and so, the promise was made that we would go for a ride after our meal.  And, ride we did. G liked it for the first few spins and then, well, nosomuch (excuse the p&s pic + flash).  I got dizzy and a bit green and I suspect he felt the same.  So much for spinny rides!

an apple a day...

This boy loves apples.  The obsession started on Christmas day. While visiting family, G was crawling around the house and discovered a fruit bowl on the floor in the front hall.  I'm guessing it was probably moved there temporarily to make more room in the kitchen for holiday fare but, in any case, G plucked out an apple and started gnawing on it as he crab-crawled through the house. 

In my not so infinite wisdom, I tried taking it from him to cut it in pieces. Oh the howls!  He snatched it right back out of my hand and took turns sitting with me, his daddy and his grandma for the next hour as he devoured his way through that apple. 

Now, it's his favorite afternoon snack.  And, I've found a surefire way to have a peaceful grocery shopping trip even with an active toddler...hand him a piece of fruit!  I'll take it :)

you better watch out, you better not cry...

He was the best Santa I'd ever seen and such a nice man. We were standing right there. The event was at a private little shop near my parents house, very low-key and no crowds. You'd think it would be the perfect setting for a first introduction. Notsomuch. Poor little boy was just not impressed with the jolly man in the red suit.

G is normally very easy going and will allow himself to be held by anyone, once he gets the nod that his Daddy or I approve.

So, what is it about Santa Claus?

PS - My friend Sara commented about the cell phone in his hand. No, even the shake the dice game on his Daddy's cell phone, which normally brings on fits of giggles, would not quell the Santa terror.
I assure everyone that G was not actually traumatized and that he sat calmly for a photo with a mall Santa another day.

file under: when good boys go bad or, mama forgot how tall you are...

(click photo to view a larger version of the crime file)

oh hello, september 28th! i've been waiting for you...

I've been waiting on this morning since mid-summer, when my Google search turned up the fantastic news. Finally, months of enduring the same few scenes and sounds over and over would come to an end. There was an end in sight. New things on the horizon!

This morning when it was time for my shower, I turned on the DVR, scrolled to yesterday morning and turned on...

...a brand-new Sesame Street season!!!!
Something I never thought I would say, let alone look forward to or get excited about. But, there it is. PBS Kids played the same 15 or so episodes from last season in a loop all summer and I was over them. They weren't fooling this mama. I know that they have thousands of episodes in the archives. Thousands. Remember, PBS? I was a consumer once before when I was a wee one. Haven't you heard that vintage is in vogue?

G didn't seem to mind but, I couldn't stand to see Abby and her gang upcycle the genie's lamp one more time, or hear the "Murray had Little Lamb" rap. Over it.

So, this morning G and I welcomed Super Grover into our living room and breathed a sigh of relief for something new.

peek-a-boo...

So you want me to show off my two new teeth, huh? Yeah, I don't think so.

Peek-a-boo!!!
Hehehe...you tricked me Mama!

spilled milk...

It's not news that it is hot here in New York and has been for several weeks. Everyday. Without a break. I am kind of terrified of the inevitably huge number that will arrive printed at the top of our utility bill this month. Yet, nothing could be done. In this heat, it's about survival.

Survival and ice cream.

Only today, we have no ice cream in our house. Last night after enjoying a bit before getting ready for bed, I went out to the kitchen to put the second half of mine back in the freezer. I had had enough and didn't want the rest to go to waste. I put the lid on, placed it back in the freezer and closed the door.

Or so I thought.

This morning when Mr. Boom pulled open the freezer to fill his thermos with ice we found a few cubes in the tray. Floating in a vat of water. Oh my ____!!!! I'm not sure exactly why the door didn't close last night. Maybe I didn't push it hard enough. Maybe something got stuck. It was closed enough that I didn't notice a difference at the time or when I was in the kitchen again at about 1:00 am to pump. But, the evidence was undeniable.

Garbage pick-up was this morning and out went a full bag of almost everything. We were able to salvage what was in the center and was still frozen solid (a couple vacuum sealed meals and vegetables) but the rest, including the ice cream, went in the trash.

And then there was the liquid gold. My very small but precious freezer stash of pumped milk. Thankfully it was all still slushy so, I was able to make G's bottles for today from the few freezer bags, which will allow me to freeze yesterday's milk later. This was not in the plan. The first thing I said after we saw what had happened was, "The milk!!!"

Things happen in strange ways. In the end, I'll probably only lose a few ounces. Just two days ago, after a bad day of pumping, I was lamenting about my small stash. Today, I'm thankful that I only had about a day's worth frozen and that this incident wasn't a much larger disaster.

Today, I will not cry over spilled milk. But, I will be pumping more and will give the freezer door an extra nudge. Every time. Just in case.

mama initiation, by fire...

Three firsts happened for G yesterday, none of which were welcomed or amusing in the least:

• ear infection
• high fever
• projectile vomiting...times two

Wednesday night, G felt very hot all over and when the thermometer reading went over 101, I knew I'd be making two calls in the morning: a sick day for work (my 2nd week back) and the pediatrician. He hadn't been himself all day and had been tugging at his ear. So, Thursday morning we got a sick visit appointment. As soon as the doctor looked in his left ear it was obvious. Ear infection. By mid-afternoon, G had his first dose of antibiotics.

I figured on a rough night ahead based on his fever and the ear pain. I did not expect what happened after his dinner. He had eaten well, as usual - chicken, sweet potatoes and oatmeal with some pears to top it all off. Within ten minutes, G, the kitchen floor, counter, cabinets and I were all wearing every last bite of that meal. Projectile. Followed by scared, very unhappy screams from the boy and immediate mopping up and clothes changing action by Mama.

Fabulous.

And in the end, I'm left wondering how I could have overlooked the memo about this fabulous initiation.