War of the Words

According to research, the average 5-6 year old has a working vocabulary of 2,500 – 5,000 words. It has also been shown that women speak an average of 20,000 words per day, while men mutter a mere 7,000. Unless your name is Gavin Locke, and therefore you are REQUIRED to maintain an average per-day requirement of at least 30,000 words per day, with 10,000 of them being “mom” or some other variation.

Yes, I know it’s a blessing that he has such an advanced vocabulary, and he’s already miles ahead of the pack when it comes to reading, language development and yada yada yada. But sometimes I JUST WANT HIM TO BE QUIET.

I realize that there are some relatives of mine that will read this and smirk…thinking to themselves that I got what I deserved – a little ‘Gabby’ (my undeserved childhood nickname). I also understand from my own recollection and from family story time that I was somewhat of a talker. I get it. I still am. But there is NO WAY I was ever as chatty as Gavin. Holy Moley that boy can talk! About the weather. About dinosaurs. About rain. About legos. About photo backdrops and lighting equipment. Ok, this last one was my imagination as I was temporarily blocking him out to make room for my OWN thoughts.

Yesterday I actually contemplated vacuuming AGAIN just to get a 10 minute break from it.

Brady is gone until Tuesday. My ears are bleeding. Please send help. And cocktails.

Alpha Dog: sibling lessons learned 30+ years later...

I am the oldest of 3. This means I have learned a thing or two about sibling rivalry, or at least how to look out for my own best interests….sometimes (I admit) at the expense of my little brothers. Now that I’m a mom, I’m being forced to look at both sides of the coin.

Easter morning, Gavin woke up first…of course. The Easter Bunny had come! Well, being up late and having a pretty good idea of what he had brought anyway, Brady & I were content to spend an extra couple of minutes snoozing - especially since Grayson was too. Apparently he wasn’t as concerned about the big bunny’s visit as Gavin was…which was totally fine with me.

After 10 minutes of suspicious quiet, and no sound of footsteps running back UP the stairs, Brady & I lazily grabbed the baby and headed downstairs to something that can only be described as Easter Mayhem. Gavin had literally disassembled BOTH baskets and laid out both boys’ offerings in some sort of candy/trinket/toy/formula cult shrine.

But here’s the best part: not having any idea that Mom & Dad would actually KNOW what the Easter Bunny brought, Gavin had taken it upon himself to select the choice goodies from Grayson’s basket that he obviously thought would be more suited to HIS tastes.

The Bunny had left a green sand pail/orange shovel for Gavin, and an orange pail/green shovel for Grayson. Guess who had a green pail AND shovel? And the monster-sized bucket-o-bubbles that really were for Gavin (kind of) but were placed in Grayson’s basket as ‘filler’? Yup, those ended up on Gavin’s side of the ‘shrine’.

When questioned (tactfully, or course) he gave up the gig and confessed that since Grayson was a baby, he couldn’t really use the bubbles anyway, and also (since he’s a baby, you know) he probably doesn’t care what color his shovel is, and Gavin would rather have the green. Such logic from a five year old, huh? So we made him ASK Grayson if he MINDED if Gavin took the green shovel (he really didn’t give a hoot) and he volunteered to blow bubbles for him once he gets a little older.

Grayson is lucky the only other things he got were formula and baby toys...otherwise he might have lost a lot more!! Almost makes me feel a *twinge* of sympathy for my little brothers...almost...

Better be on your toes, you have two to watch over now....

I love snow. But towards the end of February, the love affair is over, and I start longing for warm days. Today, I look out the window and all I see is snow. It's an all-out blizzard right now. Seriously? Can we be done with this already?

However, 5 years ago today was a completely different story. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, there were beautiful daffodil blooms on my windowsill (courtesy of my CIPA friends, celebrating Gavin's birth just 16 days before). It was so nice, that Brady and my Father-in-Law decided to go golfing for the first round of the season.

I, still basking in the glow of new motherhood, was sitting at the coffee table, working on Gavin's baby book. He was sleeping beside me. Looking back, it was all so Norman Rockwell it makes my heart hurt to this day.

About noon, the phone rang. The call changed my family forever. My brother had been in a motorcycle accident, and although he couldn't give me any details at the time, the officer said it was imperative that I come out to Yale and meet him at my Dad's house. Of course, this started the scramble. OH MY GOD, I have to call Brady. Brady, you have to come get me, we need to get to Yale. This has to be wrong, everything is OK, I just need to get there and everything will be fine. You'll see, Nicole, you are just overracting - your mind is playing tricks on you. Dress the baby, make a couple bottles, pack the diaper bag, and we will get this all sorted out when we get there.

And then the phone rang again. This time it was not the police, but Grant, a close friend of my brother. The minute I answered the phone to his sobbing, I knew. Over the phone, Grant told me the extent of the accident, and that Justin didn't make it.

By this point, Brady had returned from golf to pick me up, and we made the mad dash out to Yale. All I could think about was getting out there to fix this. It was all a mistake, once I got there, I would explain everything, and we would laugh about how crazy neurotic Nicole got herself in a tizzy over nothing. And then we arrived in Yale.

The officer met me at my Dad's house. Since my Dad was no where to be found (he didn't have a cell phone at the time) and my other brother was living in Florida, I was next of kin. He took me aside, explained the details, and confirmed that my little brother was in fact deceased.

Unfortunately, (or fortunately, because all of his things were still inside) the house was locked, and my garage code was not working. I walked around to the back door, attempted to open it, and collapsed. How could this be happening? Less than 48 hours ago he was at my house and I was telling him what an idiot he was for buying some stupid earrings. And what about Gavin? He was only 16 days old, and surely couldn't know the extent of my grief, and would never know the uncle that cherished him by rubbing my belly, holding him, and just marveling at the first little baby he had ever held.

I hurt so bad, and there was nothing I could do to fix it. It still hurts, just not as deep and raw and sorrowful as at first. I wonder. If he were still here, would him and Gavin be the best of buddies? Would he have been as excited about Grayson's birth as he was with Gavin? Would he be married, with kids of his own?

So many questions, no answers whatsoever. But today, I look out at the snow and wish that it was snowing on March 26, 2006 - because he wouldn't have gone for a motorcycle ride in the snow. He would have taken his beater car, and would likely still be here - horrible table manners, loud obnoxious personality and all.

I know he's up there, because he's been watching over Gavin for 5 years now. I just hope he's up for the challenge, because now he's got two to look out for.

Rest in peace Justin, I still miss you so much.

Scary times, new beginnings...

I admit it, I am a ‘bad’ blogger. I can go weeks and even months between posts. It’s not that I don’t have lots of comical/interesting things to post about, it’s just that I am SO FREAKING BUSY. So why am I going back to work next week????

Well, to pay the bills, for one. And two, well, there really isn’t a two - because I really don’t want to go back.

The past year and a half has been a very sobering and humbling period for me. Our family experienced a fall from grace of epic proportions….and we have nobody to blame but ourselves. Part stupidity, part foolishness, and honestly, quite a bit of arrogance led to the demise of our financial security.

Bad economy? Eh, we are fine, we are better than fine – let’s just get whatever we want, whenever we want it! A deck as big as our house? nice cars? nice clothes? fun toys? fun trips? cleaning lady? – you name it, we had it. Until December 8th 2009. When I lost my job I thought “no problem, we are good – we are better than good – we will make this work”. Which is true, we could have made it work, had we taken the time to examine our financial priorities and adjusted our style of living. We made some cutbacks, but not nearly enough, and not nearly as quickly as we should have. For example, the $80 a month we were paying (direct withdrawl) to AT&T for a phone line that WE NO LONGER EVEN HAD! I didn’t discover this little ditty until last summer – about 6 months AFTER I lost my job. Sadly, this gives you a very real picture of how well we managed our finances.

I’m not posting this as a ‘cry in my beer, oh pity me’ plea for compassion, but a wake-up call for anyone out there who is miraculously unscathed from the ‘financial crisis’ and is STILL thinking that they are bulletproof. If it can happen to us, it can happen to anybody…only now we are humble enough to admit that we are no better than anyone else, and that we need to make some drastic changes if we ever want to get it back to good.

This week, we started Dave Ramsey’s ‘Financial Peace University’. What an eye-opener! Brady & I thought we had a pretty good idea of our budget and debt….wow, were we wrong. Just reading the first couple of chapters we both realized that we are such a statistic it’s downright SCARY. Fortunately for us, we are not too far gone to repair the damage.

To our awesome friends –we will be doing plenty of ‘hanging out’ this summer. Gone are the nights out to dinner and movies…but we will gladly have you over for a drink on our deck! With as many bad things that have come out of the past year, there have been SO MANY good things as well. As a family, we have realized that all of the things we have been coveting is just ‘STUFF’ and that, quite frankly, we have waaaaay too much ‘STUFF’ - but we don’t have nearly enough of each other.

Nope, I’m really not looking forward to Monday. But I am looking forward to a couple of years from now when my family is free from the chains of debt that have plagued so many of us. I’m also looking forward to getting back to the basics, and teaching my children fiscal responsibility so that they may avoid the traps and pitfalls that their parents didn’t.

So when we sell the Mountaineer and buy our new ‘hooptie’, please feel free to laugh - because we will be too. Because if you can’t laugh at yourself, then really what’s the point?

Good night, sweetheart, and Happy 6.5 Years

The absolute coolest thing about getting married on August 14th is that your ‘half anniversary’ just happens to fall on Valentine’s Day…EVERY YEAR!!! So not only is it an excuse to get all schmoopy and goopy about how much we love each other, it’s practically a requirement. And, for those of us who know us personally, it’s not just an act. We really are truly madly deeply in love with each other, to the point of actually grossing some people out. Sorry folks. The truth is, we just hate to be apart from one another. Especially on holidays and birthdays.

Ah, life on the road. There seems to be a misconception that business travel is soooooo fun and exciting and glamorous. But ask anyone that actually does it and you get a completely different story. It sucks. It’s tiring, boring, and you miss out on stuff: weekends, holidays, your birthday, your KIDS’ birthdays, first smiles, first teeth, you get the point. However, it’s a LIFESTYLE. One that is hard to get out of your system once you become accustomed to it.

I’ve been ‘grounded’ since August. I haven’t been home this long since, well, Gavin was born. I’m getting a little stir-crazy. I’ve missed the entire trade-show season this year. I’m missing all-you-can-eat sushi gorge fests, group texting at the dinner table about the not-so-secret lovers, lame meet and greet dinner events turned bizzare, and aching feet. But most of all I’m MISSING MY BUDDY. I’m missing sitting at a gate people watching and texting each other the things we can’t say out loud. Waking up too early, sitting in an airport all day, willing ourselves to stay awake so we can actually board the plane and not miss our flight. Reading our Kindles side by side and sharing our ipod headphones because he gave up first class to sit back with me. Waking up to in-room hotel coffee and trying to be the first to find the ‘real’ coffee shop and surprise the other. Getting ready in the same bathroom, instead of on separate floors. Spending the day together, making bets on who can write the most orders. HAVING FUN working side by side.

So, to my poor tired husband, who is on his third flight of the day, somewhere over California right now:

Good night, sweetheart, sleep tight, wherever you are. God hold you in his arms while we’re apart. Though you’re far away, your love will stay tucked away here in my heart. Goodnight, sweetheart, sleep tight, wherever you are.

"

Forgot to read the fine print...

Brady & I tried for three years to have another baby. We both had siblings, and didn’t want Gavin to be an ‘only child’ since his other siblings live so far away. We were so happy that Gavin was finally going to have a brother. I love both of my children, and wouldn’t trade them for anything in the world. Except for maybe a tropical island, but that’s just a silly pipe dream.

When we had Gavin, I was at a very different point in my life. As much as it broke my heart the first time I dropped little 7-week-old Gavin off at daycare, I got over it, and LOVED being a working Mommy. I loved picking him up at the end of the day, and weekends were so special because I got to enjoy being a family. Absence sure did make the heart grow fonder.

This time around, I’m unemployed, struggling to build our business to the point where it will actually support a salary, stuck in this blasted house all day long with the most energetic and talkative preschooler you will ever meet, and a newborn with super spidey-senses who can somehow sense when I sit down at the computer to do anything that is business related (and therefore requires two hands).

Gavin is really a good boy. Really. He is just VERY HIGH MAINTENANCE. If I didn’t feed him myself, I would swear he eats rocket fuel for breakfast, and possibly some amphetamines for a well-rounded lunch. The kid is non-stop, full-speed, ALL FREAKING DAY LONG. It wears me out just typing this.

Grayson is an awesome baby, just like Gavin was: he sleeps well, eats well, and is generally happy and content. However, his ‘needy times’ seem to be Monday, Wednesday & Friday, from about 8:30 am to 11:30 am. …which (coincidentally) are the exact same days and times that Gavin goes to preschool….and the only 9 hours a week I get a break from the constant barrage of MOM, mom, Mom, look at me Mom, look at this Mom, MOM, mom, Mom, MOM???

ARGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!

So, you ask, how am I typing this??? One handed, with a bottle in the other, and a baby balanced in the crook of my knee. Which means after 3 hours of grumping, he will likely sleep all afternoon. Which is perfect, since I have to leave in 5 minutes to retrieve Gavin from preschool. Oh yeah, and the 8 hours of work I planned on cramming in the 3 hours of peace I (expected) to have today? Yup, still sitting on the desk….laughing at my futile attempts to actually be productive today.

I need a vacation…..or at least some better meds…

Childbirth and Chili in a Crock Pot

Flash back, it’s Christmas in the early 90’s and I am gifted my VERY OWN cd player. How cool is that? I’m also (conveniently) gifted a couple of cd’s. Selections included The Tractor’s “Baby likes to rock it” [like a boogie-woogie choo choo train…yeeeee hawwww!!!!!] OK, I was like, 12 – cut me some slack.

But the BEST cd I received was Jeff Foxworthy’s “You might be a Redneck”. One of my favorite bits was him talking about childbirth and how it’s so quick these days: “it takes longer than that to make chili in the crock pot!” And so the story of Grayson’s delivery begins…

We had to be at the hospital at 6:00 am, and it was snowing like crazy, so it’s a good thing we only live about 5 minutes away! We took the elevator up to the baby floor, and were escorted to our suite…#5. They didn’t waste any time, but 6:30 I was in my ‘hospital fancies’ and had my IV. At 6:50, Nurse Jenny (who was really awesome and funny) started the pitocin, just in time for the Anesthesiologist to come in and talk to me about my ‘consent’ for an epidural. I asked him if I could have it right then. He said no. Hey, you never know unless you ask...

After about 20 minutes I started having some mild contractions, but they really got strong when Jenny broke my water at 7:40. At that time, Brady poked his head out in the hall and said ‘DUKE?’ to some guy. Turns out, it was Duke, the new Anesthesiologist, and he was quite puzzled that Brady knew who he was. Of course, Brady didn’t, but we had a good laugh at Duke thinking he should know someone that he didn’t. Anyway, he was heading into a c-section, and said he would come back at 9:00 to give me the good stuff. Which was just about perfect timing because it got pretty intense after 8:00, so after an hour of good contractions, I was SOOOOO ready.

By 9:20 the epi was in, and I was texting Brady to let him know that all was clear, he could come back in. (they kick the guys out during the epidural process because some dude fainted and cracked his head a couple of years ago. He ended up in the ER with stitches). By this time, my contractions were about 2 minutes apart and pretty strong, so I was glad to be comfortably numb! At 9:45 Jenny checked me, and I was 6 cm and 90% effaced, so I was progressing nicely. So nicely, that we decided to make it a goal to have this baby before lunch, since Jenny had to go home at 1:00 pm shift change. Plus, I was hungry and wanted to eat.

With me all settled, and (presumably) other laboring mothers to attend to, Brady & I were left to our own devices for a while. The conversation turned to labor and delivery horror stories, just in time for me to notice a change in my contractions. Grayson was digging himself out of there, and it felt like he was moving pretty quickly. Knowing that the nurses would shut my epi off (and fearing 24 hours of pushing or some other labor debacle) I waited a few heavy contractions before I finally told Brady that we needed to call Jenny, it was almost time. That was about 11:00. Jenny came in and checked me, I was 9 cm and almost ready. After a couple more contractions and a few ‘test pushes’, it was GO TIME at 11:34. I know this because I had typed the status into my Facebook page, so all Brady had to do was hit “share” when it was actually time. Yes, I know. We are the King and Queen of oversharing.

Back to the part where we made it a goal to have this baby before lunch….because I had an epi, I agreed to let Jenny pump up the pitocin to speed things along. It did just that. While I was pushing my contractions were a minute apart. The nurses gave me an oxygen mask in between pushes, so I barely had time to get the mask on for a few breaths before it was time to push again. Side note: I later learned that Grayson’s heartbeat was dropping whenever I pushed, which was the reason for the oxygen. I was so in the zone I didn’t know…nor did I pay much attention to my phone chirping facebook comments the entire time I was in labor). I knew my epidural had been turned off, so I had an hour or less to get this kid out before the real pain started. I was on a mission!!!

And that’s how it went for the next 25 minutes – push, mask, breathe, push, mask, breathe. It was about noon when Dr. Rowe came in and started prepping to catch the baby. I was so focused on getting this kid out of me that I wasn’t really paying much attention to whatever else was happening. He was crowning and all I wanted was him out of me, but there wasn’t enough room so I waited a couple contractions for Doc Rowe to give me a little snip snip so Grayson could slide on out at 12:19…less than 6 hours after the ‘start’ of my labor.

Brady got some awesome pictures of our new little man all fresh and soupy (which will not be shared) and I got to cut the cord before they placed our new little bundle in my arms! By 1:15 I was all showered up and changed and we were accepting visitors. Just in time for lunch.

So BAM, folks – there ya have it….CHILI IN A CROCK POT!!!!