Last night I hosted one of those Body Shop at Home parties...You know, a "Girls Night Out." I invited the mothers from our playgroup, plus a handful of other moms I know. I wanted it to be a "Mom's Night Off," which meant no babies, and no fretting about the babies. Dads were left in charge of the kiddos, and, quite frankly, I didn't care what they did.

I think the party was a success.

Not all of the moms could come, which was a disappointment, so there were only four of us there. But we had a good time. I had done up a bunch of appetizers, and boughten a few bottles of wine. We sat back on the couch, lounging with our feet soaking in hot tubs of peppermint-infused water while we sipped wine and nibbled bruschetta.

It. Was. Divine.

For FOUR hours I had no baby to take care of, no kitchen to clean, no phone to answer, no one and no task to answer to. The time was my own. For FOUR hours, people!

It was just me and my girlfriends, laughing like school schools, goofing around. We tried out different scrubs, lotions, moisturizers, as we sipped wine and swapped stories.

Of course, all we talked about were our kids.

But that's okay. We're moms. That's what we do now.

What was important is we had the evening off, we got to spend time together, and we got to pamper ourselves. For FOUR hours!!

To all the mommies out there, I highly recommend hosting a party. In fact, all three of the other moms at my party signed up to host their own parties.

Sweet...more Mom's Night Out for me!

We are in that part of the cycle where Baby Girl doesn't eat. I hate this part. I fret and worry, coax and plead, sing and tell stories to distract her while I maneuver food into her mouth. It's all for naught. She's just not into food right now.

Two weeks ago she was practically inhaling food. She couldn't get enough of whatever I placed in front of her. She ate a bowl of Peanut Butter Vegetable Soup I made. She ate the ravioli we gave her. She ate her bowl of Cheerios dutifully every morning.

Now the past few days have been different. Half-ways through the bowl of cereal in the morning she wants down, out of her highchair. At lunch time she just sucks her fingers and stares at me with her soft, doe eyes, while the food in front of her turns cold. At dinner she turns her head away, shaking fiercely, "No!"

I've tried everything. I've been making meals that I know she's eaten before and enjoyed -- like the PB soup and the ravioli -- and I'm making new things for her to try, like fried rice (I'm still trying -- unsuccessfully -- to sneak eggs into her).

She's rejecting all of it, and going for her old stand-bys: bread, fruit, yogurt, oatmeal, mac-n-cheese, applesauce. Her comfort foods.

I wish she ate a more varied diet, although she does eat a variety of fruits. What I guess I'm really wishing for is for her to eat more table food.

I think right now she is teething -- she's been a little fussy, and a little clingy, and does not want her teeth brushed! For now I'm trying to get her to eat these new, enticing meals I've prepared, but after the silent defiance, I break out a slice of bread.

Sigh.

I feel like it's one step forward, two steps back.

Two Saturdays ago, Husband and I went on our first official date since Baby Girl was born. By "official date" I mean we went out and left Baby Girl with a "real" babysitter. And by "real" I mean a teenage girl from down the road. We have run errands and left Baby Girl with her grandparents. We have gone out for dinners and left her with friends. I have gone to doctor appointments and left her with friends. Remember, I've left her before. Don't make me say it again.

So after we had the baby, and sold our house, and moved into town, and yada yada yada, we finally had the opportunity to find a babysitter. I asked around for some names, placed a few phone calls, interviewed, and arranged for The Big Night to occur after Valentine's Day.

Because Baby Girl is still nursed at bedtime, I asked the sitter to arrive at 8pm. When she arrived, Baby Girl was already peacefully slumbering. We showed the sitter how to operate the Apple TV, and left.

We had very few options as to what to do. We'd already eaten dinner, so going to a restaurant was out. We don't generally go to bars, so that wasn't high on our list of options. How 'bout a movie? Sure...after all, we'd just watched the trailer for Atonement and thought it looked good.

We arrived at the local theater with plenty of time to spare. Husband circled the parking lot slowly, to kill time, but only succeeded in annoying me. I was worried about the amount of cars in the parking lot; Surely we should hurry in so we get good seats?

We approached the ticket counter, stated "Two for Atonement!" and handed over $16.00. We then walked to the other side of the ticket counter to the snack counter, where the ticket girl served as snack bar girl -- because in this town, it's one-and-the-same. Like the plant nursery that rents videos: buy a shrub and rent Pretty Woman!

Husband and I began an earnest discussion of what we wanted for snacks. Should we get a sweet snack? Should we go for the popcorn? Ticket-Girl-turned-Snack-Bar-Girl stood drumming her fingernails on the glasstop counter.

"What are your sizes for popcorn?" I asked, after we had finally decided we wanted salty versus sweet.

She motioned silently to the display on the wall behind us. Medium, Large, or Bottomless.

"Let's get the large." I said. She piped in, "Bottomless is only $.50 more!"

Husband and I again discussed earnestly if we should go for the large or the bottomless. We finally reached the decision of bottomless, when Husband shrugged his shoulders and said, "why not?"

"Do you want extra butter on the popcorn?" she asked us.

"Uh...does it need it?" Husband asked.

"It depends if you want it greasier...You can sample some." and she held a small amount of popcorn out towards us.

I sampled it and stated, rather too loudly, "Oh, that's plenty salty. That's fine!"

She filled our bottomless bucket with popcorn, as the people in line next to us gawked at us. It was becoming obvious we didn't go to the movies that often. Or else it looked like we were on a first date...we were acting so clumsy and were acutely aware of our huge presence in the tiny lobby.

"Anything else?" quipped Ticket-Girl-turned-Snack-Bar-Girl.

"Um, do you want something to drink?" Another earnest back-and-forth discussion.

We finally settled on a small root beer for me, and a large root beer for Husband.

"That'll be $10.50." said Ticket-Girl-turned-Snack-Bar-Girl.

We quickly scrambled with our drinks, our bucket-o-lard, and red faces into the darkened theater room. I needn't have worried about finding seats. We were the first of only 8 viewers to arrive. We sat for twenty five minutes, staring at a blank screen and eating popcorn, chatting about normal day-to-day things. We concluded the last time we'd been to a movie in the theater was in 2005, for War of the Worlds.

By the time the movie started, our popcorn bucket was empty. Neither of us wanted more. So much for the bottomless deal.

Part way through the movie, Husband began to squirm, uncomfortable in the theater seats. My mind started to wander, wondering how close to the end of the film we were. I was slightly bored by the movie, growing tire, and I kept getting distracted by the sounds of another movie playing in the theater next to us.

At the end of the movie, we exited the theater into the frigid cold air, and drove home with teeth chattering.

We paid the sitter $20.00, and I promptly went to bed.

*********************

Almost $50.00 later I had to ask myself if it was worth it.

The answer is no. Truthfully, I would have enjoyed watching a movie at home better. And for the money we spent, it just wasn't all that. Everyone kept saying to us, "oh, you're first night out without Baby Girl!" But it wasn't the exciting.

Don't get me wrong, though. Going out without Baby Girl was nice...there was no tangle of car seat straps, no baby paraphanelia to keep track of, and no 26 pound toddler to carry in and out of a store. The thing is, I would rather pay the sitter that same amount while I run errands and meet Husband for lunch, while the sitter plays and entertains Baby Girl back at home.

Boring as it sounds, that would be bliss.

Sunday floated by.
I lounged all day, supressing
guilt of "not doing."

****

She sat across from
us, rigid, quiet, uptight.
Did we piss her off?

****

Through the wall we hear
her sweet morning chatter, and
we laugh with delight.

Remember when I confessed that I do this? And we all learned that Husband blocked my access to that one site, per my request? And how I didn't really want to go there anymore?

But I do...so badly.

I've found a way around the loophole that is in our internet router.

Lately I've found myself reading pure trashy gossip on these really horrible sites, like AccessHollywood.com and, the worst of them all, PerezHilton.com.

So I've been reading up on all the Hollywood folk, but it's been disappointing. The content sucks, the photos aren't that great, and it just leaves me yearning for more.

With the realization that People is top-class by comparison, and that I am apparently going to read this trash one way or another, I asked Husband to unblock me from People.com.

That's why this post is a good hour later than usual. I was over there reading all about Brangelina's snow day with their kids.

Ahhh, it felt good to get caught back up on all the news. Like catching up with old friends.

But now I'm rolling my eyes at myself. Oh well. It's done. So long as I moderate myself and don't over-indulge. Otherwise, all of those sites are getting blocked!

So it's come to this: Husband and I no longer watch movies, we watch movie trailers instead.

It used to be, in the time of BC (that's Before Child), we were Netflix's number one fans. We had the plan where you could have 3 movies out at a time. This was great for us, because:
1. we didn't have t.v. and therefore watched movies a lot
2. we lived out in the boonies and had a very limited social life, thus we watched movies a lot
3. we no longer had to go to the only movie rental place in this little town.

That last reason was a bonus, since that particular business was run by this old hag who chain-smoked in the store while watching us with hawk eyes as we perused the limited DVD selection amongst the vast array of VHS tapes and listened to the footsteps creaking above us, knowing there were creepy men up there checking out the porn. But back to Netflix. We got three movies at a time, which for us equaled three movies a week.

Then Baby Girl was born.

Our movie-watching shifted into episode-watching. We used our Netflix account to check-out TV series episodes, and caught up on the shows we've missed out on over the past half-decade (remember, we don't have TV). We found that with a newborn in the house who needed to be nursed or rocked or changed or nursed or rocked or bounced or sang to or nursed...that watching hour long episodes fit our new lifestyle better. It was more compartmentalized.

Then we moved into town.

Our evenings of episode-watching evolved into time spent with friends, or time spent taking walks, or time spent playing together as a family. Soon we watched episodes only on the weekends, instead of our usual one or two in the evening after Baby Girl went to bed.

Then I started blogging.

Why watch movies or episodes when there are blogs to read and blogs to write? Right? Well, while that is partially true, somehow the amount of time we spent in front of our TV was diminished to almost nothing. Even though we live in town now, we still refuse to get a TV connection or cable or whatever it is. And we've reduced our Netflix account to the two-a-month level for 5 bucks (this helps save on our household budget!).

Then we got an Apple TV.

Husband is an avid Macintosh-user, and had this server thingy set up to play all of our movies and blah blah blah it wasn't good enough and didn't have enough memory and more blah blah blah words words words techno mumbo jumbo that Husband speaks. In the end our movie server was swapped out for an Apple TV, which is really a movie server. Ironic, huh? But really, it's sooo much better. It's sorta like Netflix, except you get movies or television shows directly. You turn on your television screen, scroll through the movie list (either Apple's or your own), select what you want to watch and sit back and relax. Plus, Apple TV has this cool feature appropriately titled Theatrical Trailers. Same as the movies, you just scroll through the list of soon-to-be released movies, select one to watch, and sit back and enjoy. Just like you're in a theater!

Now, we'll flip on the Apple TV, scroll through the trailer list, watch a couple, turn it off, and that's that.

Like I said...we no longer watch movies, just the trailers.

See how your life changes after having kids?

I am probably the only person in this town -- and even beyond our borders -- who doesn't want winter to end. I enjoy the deep blanket of snow that covers our yard -- it's a an automatic excuse to not worry about yard work! I enjoy being indoors and watching lazy flakes drift down while I sip a warm drink and bake bread. I like wearing sweaters. And I love flannel sheets. There are so many things about winter that I relish.

It was with some disappointment I heard birds chirping last week. While I enthused to Baby Girl, "What does the bird say? Cheep cheep!" I felt melancholy. I know that soon will be gone the dark evenings of coziness, snuggled under blankets and watching movies. Soon we'll have to mow the lawn, and weed the flower beds, and clean out the garage. Winter -- and the snow -- provides the reason to ignore all that and just be lazy and enjoy what matters most.

But don't get me wrong. I am so looking forward to long walks again, and afternoon trips to the park. And it will be nice to feel the warm thickness of sunshine on bare arms and an upturned face. I'm excited to take Baby Girl for a ride in her new little Radio Flyer. And there are trails to hike and lakes to swim in this summer.

So even though I say I don't want winter to end, I do. I do want to be outdoors without layers of shirts and sweaters and coats. I do want to sit on my deck and watch the bees busy at their work in the flower -- and weeds! -- bed. I do want days upon days of sunshine and blue skies. And I can't wait to see Baby Girl run for the first time in our new backyard.

Besides, once summer gets here, autumn is just around the corner!

Please forgive me, but
am I allowed writer's block?
I have no haiku.

I don't drink coffee, due to my heart problem, but I do drink a coffee substitute, Pero. It's a barley and chicory blend. I like to add a little bit of sugar and milk to it. A couple of weeks ago, I couldn't figure out why it tasted so different -- so much that I didn't want to drink it anymore. I finally realized I'd been forgetting to add milk to it. For a whole week I forgot to add milk to my "coffee."

Baby Girl and I attended our weekly playdate this morning (you can read all about our adventure here), then went out to lunch with the other moms and kids afterwards.

During lunch, one of the moms and I began discussing our respective child's eating habits. Her son is two months younger than Baby Girl, so they had a lot of similarities. I was impressed when her son ate the broccoli and zucchini she handed him. She told me he eats everything -- eggs, all sorts of veggies, beans...everything. I commented that Baby Girl won't eat any of that stuff. But then I began ticking off what she eats and realized I don't give her enough credit. While she may refuse broccoli and scrambled eggs, she is trying new foods every day and gaining more and more interest in our foods -- just last night she had a huge bowl (for her) of Peanut Butter Vegetable Soup. On reflection, I think she eats pretty well every day. For example, here's what she ate today:

Breakfast one: Cheerios with whole milk, sippy cup of juice/water
Breakfast two: bowl of baby oatmeal with blueberries, yogurt, banana, more juice/water
Lunch: cheese, raisins, applesauce, cracker (she was pretty distracted at lunch-time so it was hard to get her to eat)
Snack: Goldfish, grapes, whole milk
Dinner: she tried our "Tempeh Stroganoff" and didn't like it. So she ate a baby food thing of apples/cherries, plus a whole grain bar, and whole milk.

Then she had her usual night time nursing. So that's -- roughly counting -- 6 fruits plus juice, 3+ dairies, 4 grains, plus breast milk. I think that's pretty good. Of course, not all days are like this, but this is pretty close. I rotate around her fruits (and veggies) so she gets a wide variety. And I'm utilizing the Deceptively Delicious strategy with our dinners.

I always worry about how much she's getting to eat, and if it's enough calories and varied enough. And I've felt guilty for a long time that I was still feeding her baby food. But I just read somewhere the other day that by age 2 toddlers should be 100% solid food. That made me feel better -- I only give Baby Girl baby food when all else fails, so that happens probably a couple times a week. Mostly she's eating "toddler food."

It was nice to swap dietary notes with another mother, and realize, hey, we all worry, and we're all probably worrying about the same thing. It was also nice that, while I was impressed with her son's eating habits, she was impressed that Baby Girl eats cereal and quesidillas. Guess I'm doing all right...

Back in January, Husband, Baby Girl, and I had just returned home from running errands, when we looked out our window and noticed our neighbor's car parked in our driveway. It annoyed us, simply because nobody asked us if it would be okay to park there. And thus, blocking us in. The car sat on our driveway for a good half-hour while their driveway was plowed. You would think they'd give us a courtesy plow for the use of our driveway, but they didn't. I wondered at the time if they didn't think we were home. Or if they knew we were home but figured we wouldn't be going out again since we just got home. When they finally came to retrieve their vehicle, they did give a wave through our window.

Today, again, there was a car parked on our driveway. I'm not sure how long it was there, but at least fifteen minutes. Right now, because of all the snow, our driveway is only wide enough for one vehicle. So when The Kid's mom came to pick him up tonight, she had to park in the street. I was beyond annoyed. Especially because Husband was due home any minute, too. Where was he supposed to park while who-knows-whose-car-this-is sat on OUR driveway. Suspecting it belonged to our neighbors who had previously parked, without asking, on our driveway, I stepped outside to see if I could locate the owner. Peering into their yard I saw two men. I called over, asking if this was their car. One of them responded, "yeah, I'm moving it now." I said, "Okay, because my husband is due home any minute." And then I thanked him. Argh!!!! What was I doing thanking him??? He didn't thank me for the use of our driveway, or apologize for making the assumption that we don't use our driveway, or apologize at all. That really bugged me, too.

The thing is, I don't mind if somebody needs to park on our driveway. I understand there are times, like when you are snow blowing or plowing your driveway, you have to shuffle your vehicles. All I'm saying is, please ask. We may have plans on leaving our house, or perhaps someone is coming over, or home, and will need access to what is ours. So please, don't be rude. Be neighborly.

************

We're new to this neighborhood. We moved in last fall, right before the snow started falling. So we haven't met any of our neighbors, or developed any relationships with them. I hate that our first interactions with these neighbors is a negative one. I worry about what kind of neighbors they will be. Are they going to borrow our stuff -- and worse, without asking -- and never return it? Will they let litter and garbage blow over into our yard? They don't seem to respect personal space. And I hate that in the back of my mind, I wonder, did they do this? I don't want to think badly of people I don't even know.

Maybe I'm getting my panties in wad for nothing, and maybe I'm just being too un-neighborly myself, especially since I appreciate good deeds. But I don't know...what do you think?

Baby Girl loves bath time. She gets so excited whenever she hears the sound of the shower curtain being pulled back, and the water begin to fill the tub. "Baff! Baff!" she'll say, pointing towards the bathroom. Baby Girl gets a bath frequently, so I'm glad she enjoys it. She does not, however, like showers. I discovered this a few weeks ago...

Showering is a luxury that doesn't happen often. When Baby Girl was a little baby, and slept more, showering was no problem. But as she has grown, and out-grown morning naps, my shower time has evolved away. I either shower early, before Husband or Baby Girl wake up, or I shower at night. Neither of these are my preferred choices (why choose a shower over sleep? And I hate going to bed with wet hair!)

A few weeks ago I desperately needed a shower. I was feeling sluggish and gross, and i. just. wanted. a. shower. So I got the bright idea to shower, and take Baby Girl with me! She did, after all, need a bath, too. I had already showered with her once before and she seemed okay with it. So, I started the tub running and here Baby Girl came, all excited to take a Baff! I got ready, then I got Baby Girl ready, stripping her down while she lay on our bathroom floor.

This was the point where concern crept into her eyes. Clutching her lovey she eyed me warily. Not noticing any red flags, I proceeded with my plan. As I picked Baby Girl up I pried her lovey from her hands, telling her he would wait for us on the bathroom windowsill. BIG MISTAKE. She immediately began squirming and fussing, and trying to reach for him. Thinking that once we got in the shower she would be distracted and forget her lovey, I stepped into the steamy water bliss. Baby Girl freaked. She began sobbing, and tried to scramble for her lovey.

I was not prepared for a squirming toddler, let alone the wet squirming toddler she had suddenly become. Figuring, ah heck I'm already in here, I set her down and started to wash my hair. Baby Girl continued to cry, sitting by my feet. If I picked her up, she squirmed so much I was afraid I'd drop her. I took the World's Fastest Shower, and turned the water off. Pulling back the shower curtain, I grabbed her lovey from the windowsill and gave him to my now-silent daughter. I noticed she was shivering so I wrapped her in a fuzzy towel and sat her on the floor mat next to the tub while I dried off.

At this point I started to get very concerned, worried I had traumatized my daughter into shock. She just sat on the floor, clutching her lovey and sucking her fingers, while ever so slightly rocking back and forth, back and forth. She stared off into space. I decided the best thing for her at this point was some mama love so I quickly dressed and then we cuddled for a long long time. After twenty minutes, she started to rouse and babble again. She was okay.

Every since then, whenever she hears the shower turn on, she gets a little worried, and she won't cross the threshold into our bathroom. She just sits patiently right outside the door waiting for me to finish. While she remains unsure of showers, she still loves her bath time, though!

Winter fades away.
Birds in the treetops chirp and
hint at things to come.

let's get together
she said, over her shoulder.
We both know we won't.

She has a word for
everything now, and her voice
tinkles in the air.

There is a man in our town who uses a beast of an Arctic Cat to plow driveways. This ATV is set up perfectly, and it looks like a tank. Instead of wheels he has tracks on it. He has a deicer tank strapped to the back, and he's rigged up a dispenser for it. The man himself is decked out, too. He wears camo snow-gear and a felt hat. I often see him driving around our neighborhood, plowing neighbors' driveways.

Last week, after it had snowed about 8 inches overnight, then rained, I just didn't have the will to go outside and shovel. I had been shoveling for several days in a row already. And when it warms up and rains on top of the snow, it just gets too heavy and it's too much for me. But the driveway needed it: we were due for another round of snow later that day. Husband had already gone to work so it was up to me to figure this out. I decided to call the man on the ATV for help.

He came later that afternoon and plowed out our driveway. He even widened it a bit. He was so considerate and nice about the whole thing. Very friendly. He only charged $15, too, which is very reasonable.

He seems to be a very kind man, and I even told Husband so when he came home that night.

Today, we had a similar scenario. It snowed heavily overnight, then warmed up this morning and rained. We're due for another round of snow tonight. So I headed out to shovel again. I bundled up Baby Girl and placed her in the stroller so I could keep an eye on her. Then I got cracking.

I had the driveway shoveled about 2/3 of the way when the man on the ATV drove by. He waved and I nodded my head, greeting each other. Not more than two minutes later he was back.

"Let me save you some time," he said as he backed onto our driveway. I protested, telling him he didn't have to do this. He insisted and plowed the rest of the driveway out.

I offered him payment, and he refused. He said he just felt bad that I was out there shoveling when he was just down the road plowing. I told him I insisted on paying him, that he had done me a service and indeed saved me time. Again, he declined, saying next time I see him I could give a cup of hot cocoa.

He is a kind man.

This is yet another reason I love living in a small town. We take care of each other.

There is something very comforting about the sight of a well-stacked cord of wood. It's along the lines of tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches.

My friend is on a cruise this week. Right now, she's somewhere floating in the Caribbean, sipping a margarita, and eyeing a cabana boy. I'm glad she got to take a break from this winter wonderland we're living in. While she's gone, I'm in charge of checking her mail and making sure her pipes don't freeze. Today she got an Anthropologie catalog in the mail. I took the liberty of perusing it. On the inside front cover is the following quote:

no more minutes. let's count moments -- moments that wedge themselves between days and weeks and rainfalls.

When I read that it really made me pause. I like it. I wanted to share it, especially with other mothers out there, because I think this is what motherhood is about. Even though we are structured around where the big hand and the little hand on a clock are -- nap time, snack time, play time, dinner time, bedtime -- the beauty of parenting is captured in those unrestrained moments. The moments when my daughter pauses in her play to surprise me with a kiss. The moments when her laughter is so contagious, we chime in and soon we are laughing just to hear her laugh. The moments when she rests her sweet head on my shoulder.

And one of my most cherished moments: when I hold her, sleeping, in my arms before I lay her down for the night. I bury my nose in her downy hair and take a deep breath, ignoring the nagging thought that one of these days, she'll be all grown up.

Last Friday morning as I was unloading my dishwasher, I paused to look out my kitchen window. At that exact moment, a mother moose and her calf came trotting down the street, with two cars following close behind.

I could see the panic in the mother moose. She was clearly uncomfortable with the vehicles behind her and wanted to get her baby off the road. But there was no where for her to go: the snow berms are high on both sides of the road, making them impassable even for these long-legged moose. She tossed her head, looking this way and that for safety. With ears perked and eyes wide, she nudged her calf on the rump, encouraging it to keep moving. Finally there was a break in the snow wall, and she and the baby galloped onto the protection of a neighbor's driveway.

I felt bad for this mother. What do you do when the urge to protect is overwhelming, and yet there is very little you can actually do? I hope I'm never in a situation like that. I think, though, if I were, instincts will crank up, adrenaline will roar, and Baby Girl will be safe. I think it's impossible for a mother to "just stand by" helplessly. As I witnessed by the moose, the maternal instinct is in all of us, and we will shepherd our children to safety.

Working on taxes.
By "working on," I mean the
CPA, not me.

Fireworks explode
In the dark winter night sky.
What a fun surprise!

Her confidence builds:
Cruising, climbing, and standing.
Soon she'll be walking.