Cousins

Our holiday weekend was low key, which, as I get older and more exhausted, is exactly how I prefer them.  On Monday, we went to an indoor BBQ at my dad's, due to the rain, and Leah got to play with two of her favorite people, Matthew and Bella.

Bella is getting so big--she's almost one--and I when I saw her and Leah playing this weekend I got a glimpse of what the future might be like when those two get together.

It included bail money.

.

My Little Baby, No More

I purchased some bathing suits on sale for Leah for next year.  I bought a size 4T.  They might as well have come from that Justice store because they look enormous.  I can't imagine, that next summer, in 12 short months, Leah will be wearing those bathing suits.  They are just so damn big and I don't want her to fit into them.  I mourn for the baby she once was and attempt to remain optimistic for the girl she is turning into.



.

Three Whole Years

Four months and seven days after the anniversary of my mother's death, which goes down as the worst day of my life, we celebrate Leah's birth, which goes down as the best day of my life.

In my 34 years of living on this planet, I have a few accomplishments.  But NOTHING makes me prouder than when I look at what Greg and I brought into this world on March 26, 2008.

Happy Birthday, Leah.  I've said it before, and I'll say it forever, you truly saved my life.

Now, go pick up your shoes and fortheloveofgod stop throwing your crayons.

Cruise in Review

We went on a cruise for nine days. 

 

You haven't lived until you've spent nine days with your husband and three year old in a teeny tiny room on a cruise ship.

Although we ultimately realized that we aren't disciplined enough to keep up with the schedule that cruises present, and Leah used our nine days together to find my last nerve and ride it precipitously the entire time, we had a very nice time.

We visited Puerto Rico.

And St. Thomas.

And Haiti.

And The Dominican Republic.  But I didn't bring my camera on that day.

It's hard enough to remember to bring my shoes; the camera was on the back burner.

We practiced being civilized, by getting dressed up for dinner and not screaming like a banshee when you're told that you can't have any more juice.

And also practiced bringing the TV to dinner, when we realized that three year olds are not civilized.

Meet BoBo, the newest member of our family.

(And for thirty bucks, you too can make a "Pets At Sea" animal and dress it in the polyester outfit of your choice!  Crock.)

And, of course, Leah made a friend.  Her boyfriend, as she refers to him.

(I didn't ask his mom if I could plaster his face on the Internet, as I tend to not mention my dead mother's blog when I meet people and not want them to think I'm a lunatic.  People eventually figure it out on their own--the lunacy, that is.)

All in all, it was so nice to get away with Greg and Leah.  It was such a crazy time in my life: I had left my old job on bad terms, and was so nervous that my new job would turn out to be a mistake.  I knew it was going to take a lot for me to clear my head and have a good time. 

And I did just that.

Until I saw the beverage bill at the end of the week.

.

Growing Up Gulino

I can't believe that it's been just about three years since Leah came into our lives.  Gone are the days of babyhood.  I look at her now and see such a smart beautiful little girl who is independent and inquisitive and precocious.

Everyday is so challenging, but so worth it.  Just like life.

.

Hey Ana, What's Your Name?

My sister's birthday is February 1st and this year she will be 29.  She's got a lot going on this year, and I'm really excited for her and what she's accomplishing on her own.  We all got together tonight at my dad's house and had a birthday celebration for her.

I may call Adj and her on-again/off-again boyfriend Sammi and Ronnie, and I'll never stop busting her about her lack of use of lip gloss, but deep down inside she's a great person and my best friend and I know that this year is going to be her best yet.

It has to be--next year she turns 30, and we all know it's downhill from there.



.

Raising Dana

Growing up, one of my favorite things was going down the doll aisle at toy stores.  I would inspect and study each and every doll--what she looked like, what she wore, what she came with, what she could do, if she pooped, everything.  I would get so excited to visit toy stores because a trip always, always included a stroll down the doll aisle.  I would jump from doll to doll, narrating my moves: This one has diapers!  I saw this one on TV!  Oh, I love this one so much!  This one comes with a potty!

And, if we're being honest with each other, I still enjoy perusing the doll aisle.  Even before I had Leah, if a store I was visiting contained a doll aisle, I always made sure to take a glance before I left.

I don't know why it surprises me, and delights me to no end, but Leah is obsessed with the doll aisles, too.  The first few times she begged to be let out of the cart once we reached the aisle, so that she could get a better look at the merchandise, I thought it was only a fluke.  But it's been happening now for a while, and this characteristic, along with a few other select ones, are so similar to things that I did as a child and it just amazes me each and every time I see them.

Dis one has a ba ba!  Dis one has siddy hair!  I wike dis one!  Dis one is cwying for a ma ma!

I am so grateful that I had a daughter first.  I know you're not supposed to say that, but I don't care.  I am.  I feel like it was a blessing in disguise.  Having a daughter so soon after losing my mother taught me to not take for granted one single tiny minute in this life with her.  I will never be accused of not teaching her enough, or speaking to her enough, or giving her enough, because I know how important it is to create the mother/daughter bond, because I know what it's like to lose it. 

I am in a position where I can give her things--whether material or experience-based--and I do that as much as I can.  I don't care if other people thing she's spoiled, or that I should share the wealth with a second child, or if I am doing her a disservice.  Because I know what a daughter remembers about her mom when she's no longer around.  I know what a daughter is grateful and thankful for from her mother.  I know what a daughter cherishes and holds close to her heart about her mom when her mom has passed.

It's things like sharing the experience of walking the doll aisle.



.

Where It's At

We've got a lot of anatomic talk these days.  Lots of "penis", "gina" and "butt" and who's got what and who doesn't have what.  There's a bunch of "I see you naked!" and there's the self-taught "butt dance."

There's music requests: Soul Sister, Like a G6, and Muffin Man are most frequently asked for.  She dances in slow motion during the slow parts on Dog Days are Over and then speeds it up on the fast parts.

There's a lot of blowing drying hair, and applying lip gloss, and "I need eye shadow" and "Let me go do my hair before we leave."  There are attempts to put hair ties and barrettes in.  There's a lot of hair brushing.

There are requests for showers, not baths.  There are requests for the blue shirt and the crocs, NOT that purple dress!  No, the blue one.  And maybe with the rain boots.  Definitely not the winter coat!  But, perhaps the vest.  NOT that vest, god, mom.

Oh, yes, there's a lot of MOM.  Not Mommy, but MOM.  But, there's also "What's that, Mama?"  And when she wakes up in the morning, it's always "Mommy." 

"Oh my goodness!" never gets old.  And "yes please" when the answer only needs to be yes.  

~Leah, are you in your bedroom?
~Yes, please.

~Leah, do you think I should wear my black flats with these jeans?
~Yes, please.

There's drama.  ALWAYS so much drama.  Everything is so cool! Or so sad! Or so nice! Everything is such a big deal!

There's a lot going on.  Lots of changes.  Lots of baby, but lots of big girl.  Lots and lots of big girl.

.

The Absence of Suck

I was most concerned with not being able to stretch before the race began.  I have never been a morning runner, especially a cold morning runner, so I thought that if anything was going to go wrong, I didn't want it to be something that could have been avoided with stretched-out muscles. 

I didn't hear any sort of fanfare marking the official start of the race.  I thought I'd hear a gun shot, or a horn, but nothing.  This could have been because I had my ear buds in.  There were over 1500 runners and for a minute or so after the race began we all just moved forward in a herd.  I thought for a second that the entire race might be like this:  that maybe there were too many people and not enough road and we'd all just shuffle in a big group for three miles. 

Then the crowd began to open up.  People started taking off ahead of the group.  I remember running for a minute or so in line with my sister.  I remember her running with her hands in her pockets and wondering how the hell she was able to do that.  I remember my friend Lisa being a few feet ahead of us and looking back several times.  I remember when both of them began pulling farther and farther apart from me.  And I remember when I couldn't see either of them anymore.  And then there was me.  And I took a deep breath and fixed my ear buds again, and began the long lonely 3.1 mile journey.  As it's always been.  As I've grown accustomed to. 

A lot of people passed me.  People who weren't even jogging passed me.  But, as my sister had informed me the night before, my jog speed was slower than most people's walk speed, so I was expecting this.  A few minutes into the run I began seeing people on their way back.  I tried to get real close to the center line to attempt to make eye contact with the guy who had come in 60th place in the NY Marathon and was predicted to run the Sparta Turkey Trot in record time.  He zipped by me; I smiled at him, but he never saw me.  It would have been inspiring to catch his eye, but he has personal records and qualifying races on his mind.  He didn't have time for me.

The halfway point took forever to get to.  By the time I finally reached it, I had seen Gab, Lisa, and Adj zip by on their way back.  I could tell I was far behind them based on how long it took me to get halfway through, but I didn't care.  I wasn't doing this for time.  I was just doing this to run.  I kept my eyes on the road and rallied through.

The course had hills.  I didn't know this beforehand.  I'm sure it was for the best, since I would have been much more intimidated if I had known that hills were part of this challenge.  Welcome to the Black Parade played on the steepest one. 

At one point I found myself slowing down, each step becoming harder and harder to take.  My jog slowed and slowed and I felt my right leg fall into what I can only describe as a walk-step.  And my knee immediately locked up, and it jolted my body back to attention, and I continued to run.

I was so lonely at some parts.  Or maybe just bored.  Alone.  No one was on the side of the road cheering us on; I had no idea how much farther I had to go.  All I know is that it sucked.  It totally sucked.

And then I saw it.  Mile Marker 3.  And Florence and the Machine began.  And then Flo Rida followed.  And the wooden 3 sign grew larger as I got closer.  And I started running.  And I moved to the middle of the road.  And I didn't feel a thing.  Nothing hurt.  Nothing was hard about what I was doing.  I was sprinting down East Shore Trail all by myself early on Thanksgiving morning and I felt great.  I felt wonderful!  I was so happy.  Happy to be finishing.  Happy to be running.  Happy to see the light at the end of the tunnel.

And then.   Oh my god.  And then.  I saw my family.  I saw my husband and I saw my daughter and they were cheering for me.  FOR ME.  Leah ran to me and I stopped.  In the middle of the road before I hit the finish line, I stopped short.  And I grabbed her hand.  We started to run and she fell.  I picked her up and asked her if she was ok, and she said yes.  So, we held hands again and we ran to the finish line.  And it was perfect!  Gab and Adj and Lisa and Lan were all there.  Everyone was waiting for me.  And I crossed the line holding my daughter's hand.  And I was so happy.

And then the suck came back.  And it hurt.  My feel felt like they weren't mine.  I couldn't stop moving.  I had sprained my ankle when I stopped to get Leah.  I was trying to drink water.  I could barely talk.  Old Dana was back.  The Dana that is not athletic and can't run and doesn't do very well in sports and is fat, slow, and finds new gray hairs every week.

But, for a few minutes, when Mile Marker 3 came into view, I was someone else.  I was that person I used to remember.  It was awesome.   And I loved it.   And it didn't suck entirely.


.

I DID IT!

We all did it.

Thanks for all the support and encouragement. 

Without you, I would not have been able to do this.

.

.

.

Patricia Ellen Grieco 4/6/53-11/19/07

You took my hand

You showed me how

You promised me you'd be around

I took your words

And I believed

In everything

You said to me

 

Remember when we were such fools

And so convinced and just too cool

I wish I could touch you again

I wish I could still call you friend

I'd give anything

When someone said count your blessings now

'fore they're long gone

I guess I just didn't know how

I was all wrong

They knew better

Still you said forever

And ever

Who knew

I'll keep you locked in my head

Until we meet again

And I won't forget you my friend

What happened

If someone said three years from now

You'd be long gone

I'd stand up and punch them out

Cause they're all wrong and

That last kiss

I'll cherish

Until we meet again

And time makes

It harder

I wish I could remember

But I keep

Your memory

You visit me in my sleep

My darling

Who knew

I miss you

Who knew

The Aunts

Leah has four Aunts.  Two are biological and two are by marriage/long time relationshipage.

One of her Aunts is Aunt Christie (Tistie)-Greg's sister:

And one is Aunt Adriana (Ana)-my sister:

She loves them both and they love her and I am so thankful for both of them.  They are both great women who love my daughter as much as I love her, and that means a lot me. 
.
.
.

Baby Tai-Yu

My friend Lan had a baby three weeks ago.  Baby Tai-Yu.  And he is scrumptious. 

I am trying to spend as much time with him as possible because I want to help Lan out, I want to squeeze her baby, and because I love to watch Leah with him.

I just can't get over how she acts with him.  It's all don't cry baby...ok, give me kiss, baby..I love you little baby...here's your little blanket baby...all while kissing him and tickling him and playing with his fingers.

She always wants to hold him by herself.  And she has to hold him a certain way, with his head on her left side.  She wasn't too happy about being forced to hold him with a pillow underneath, but she's gotten used to it. And I caught her a couple of times this weekend attempting to pick him up and carry him away. 

I'm always wondering how she would act if I had another baby, and before Tai-Yu came around, I used to think that she'd be really jealous.  But now I'm not so sure.  I think she'd handle it really well.  Which just amazes me.  She never ceases to amaze me.  She is just so amazing.

.

.

.

.

.

My Baby Loves Babies

So, can we just talk about how adorable my child is with little babies?  Recently, it seems like a lot of people we know have had babies, or are about to.  I tell her about them; show her pictures of them.  We practice saying their names.

She talks about them non-stop.  She tells me she's going to give them bottles, passies, and tickle them.

She wants to hold them...with NO HELP please and NO PILLOW on her lap please. 

She gives her dolls their names.  She calls me back into her room after I put her to bed so that we can talk for just a little longer about them. 

Oh, and when we see them:  it's kisses galore!

I've mentioned that my friend Lan had a baby recently and we've brought some of Leah's things to her so that she can borrow them.  I thought that leaving Leah's bouncy seat and bumbo chair would not go over well, but boy, was I wrong.  She loved letting the baby use her things and didn't mind leaving them with him either.

She's been getting so big lately, getting so much more mature, saying so much more.  There are still tough times and days in which I am wondering where I keep my rope (to tie her down for like one minute!  Not to hang myself or anything, ha ha HA HA HA) but I can see us turning a corner on the bad behavior.  I can see the light sorta glimmering through at the end of the tunnel. 

.
.

Brought To You By Coffee

Sometimes having kids feels like doing time for a crime you didn't commit.  I mean, yes, technically, with regards to Leah, I did "commit the crime."  I mean, we wanted her, and she's here due to us.  But, there are times when taking care of her seems really exhaustive and heavy and just plain tough.

I was talking to a co worker who is child-free, by choice.  He spent the weekend babysitting his 5 year-old neice, and today, Wednesday, he's still recuperating from the weekend.  He just doesn't understand how people can do this day in and day out, like deal with kids, all the time.  And, he's right.  I don't know how I do it.

We spend a lot of time in the car.  And Leah must talk, question, comment, and narrate the entire time she's in the car.  There's a lot of "Look, Mommy"s too.  It's non-stop.  When I pick her up from my sister's house on Wednesdays and am in the thick of a 45-minute commute in rush hour traffic after working for 9 straight hours, the last thing I want to do is "Look at my knee, Mommy!  Look at my sock!  Oh, man!  There's a bus!"  And if she doesn't get a reaction she will keep going, louder and louder, until she does.  So, we have a conversation for the duration of the entire ride.  Every ride.  Every day. 

Now, I don't want you all to think that I'm complaining about parenthood, because I'm not.  Much.  I knew it would be tough and challenging.  Not as tough and challenging as it actually is, but still, I had an idea.  What I'm saying is that despite the challenges, we still do it.  We still have kids.  We still run ourselves ragged taking care of them and tending to their needs.  We still think about them and worry about them.  We kiss, hug, cuddle, and snuggle them.   We love them to pieces.  More than we ever thought possible.  It's worth it.  It must be, right?

Despite being woken up at 5 a.m. this morning to the words, "I want pancakes now!" I never regret the day Greg and I decided to become parents.  I can't even remember life without Cha Cha.  And I don't want to...because I was probably well rested and energetic and richer.  And, really, who wants to think about that?

.

.

.

Abbe's Ritual

My Aunt Abbe has started a new ritual with Leah. Every few weeks she sends Leah a small gift, with a note inside. Leah loves seeing the boxes waiting at our door, and gets excited to open them up and look inside. I love the notes. They are so sweet and say cute little things that I read to Leah.

This was taken after she opened some adorable little hair ties from Aunt Abbe.

And this one was after she opened a new sippy cup with a cool straw. Of course, she had to use it immediately.

This is a sweet ritual that my Aunt’s started, and I can’t help but think it’s due mostly to the fact that my mom is not here to do this for Leah. My Aunt wants to keep a presence in Leah’s life—for her to know what it’s like to have so many relatives who love and care about her.


I’m saving the letters that come with the gifts and starting a scrapbook for Leah. I think she’ll get a kick out of reading them when she’s older.


Thanks, Aunt Abbe. We love you.

My Kid is Cute

Here's Leah all ready for school.  She loves the word school, even though technically she's going to in-home daycare.  She likes to get her backpack on and her lunch box packed and she'll even pose for a pre-school pic.  Greg took this and sent it to me at work today and I just about died from the cuteness.

.

.

.

Myrtle Beach Wrap Up

While down in the low country, Leah found a new best friend: her Pop Pop John.

Mama Ba Ba was a suitable replacement when Pop Pop wasn't around, since she would drag Leah around the perimeter of the house on a boogie board.  But, Pop Pop was just the bees knees.

I might have made fun of Myrtle Beach because of all of its fried food, and I totally disappointed myself by not running, but all in all, this was a great trip.  We really had a good time.

From our wait in the airport...

To our time at the condo on the Isle of Palms...

To questionable shoe choices...

To interesting packing techniques...

 

We had a dang good time in the South.  Thank you, John and Barbara, for being such gracious hosts.  And thank you, Greg and Leah, for being such wonderful traveling buddies.  May our future continue to take us on awesome adventures.

 

.

.

.