Sound the trumpets (and lock up your breakables...)!

Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, toddlers and tweens....



It's finally happened! He's finally done it! My son, just recently 18 months old, has finally taken his first steps!!!



Seriously. I was starting to think I'd have to carry him to his kindergarten teacher, saying, "Good luck and have fun!" and run away cackling maniacally. Not to mention start taking back pain meds in my early 30s.



But he's really, actually, finally done it. And what better time than 12 hours after his first appointment with the physical therapist recommended by his pediatrician?



(I should take a moment here to explain that the PT was not my idea. Our pediatrician -- as good as I think she is -- can be a little nutty sometimes. She started showing concern at his 15-month checkup at his lack of mobility, especially since at that point he still wasn't even "army-crawling" much, or crawling on his hands and knees at all. So she ordered a hip x-ray, a visit from the Help Me Grow -- an early-intervention type organization -- specialist, and a trip to see the physical therapist. Working in a daycare, I've seen some kids start to pull up on furniture and cruise as young as 9 months, and others not walk across the room completely unassisted until the age of 22 months. So I was not concerned in the least, much less worried enough to get professional help with gross motor skills.)

So he had the x-ray, saw the Help Me Grow specialist, and yesterday, his first physical therapy. After it was determined that he probably had a delay because of issues with balance, confidence, and motivation (conclusions we had already reached), Adam took his first few steps at my parents' house after we'dall had dinner with my aunt and uncle from out of town.

After we came back from the restaurant, we were playing with him on the floor and watching him dance-- he's got a little four-legged toy, that has a tabletop with interactive foods; when you push the cookies it sings "One to ten" to a salsa kind of tune. Adam will pull himself up on the table, push the button, then bend his knee, moving his leg up and down, and thus shaking his booty. It's pretty darn cute.

Um. It seems that thought got away from me. Where was I? Oh yes. So we're watching him play and dance, and then he got bored with that so my dad got up and started walking him around the room, holding Adam's hands up for balance. He said, "Let's walk to Tia (my sister -- tia is Spanish for aunt)." And that time, he did actually walk about 2 or 3 of the 6 or 7 steps it took to reach her. I squealed and giggled (or at least, I tried -- I've had no voice for the past 3 days or so).

This morning we had a hard time getting him to repeat it, but when he did, I was still very excited. Still working on performances for my in-laws. We'll try again tomorrow.

But at least I know he's not never going to walk.

Haiku Friday #17: Generosity

My husband is in
The middle of his student
Teaching semester.

The head of his school's
English department bought four
Dress shirts in his size

So that he may have
Something nice to wear for job
Interviews this spring.

He said, "I've been broke
Before. I know what you are
Going through right now."

All he wants? That he
Pays it forward to someone
In need, when he can.

Wow. Talk about generous. This man has only met my husband fairly recently (within the last month or so), and he doesn't spend much time with him. But he saw fit to reach out and help us with something that could mean the difference between twice and more than three times our income next year. Those dress shirts are nice.

My father-in-law bought my husband a suit a few months ago to wear to interviews, too, so provided a job exists and Brandon is qualified for it, he may just get it. His dad also agreed to lend us the money for the PRAXIS test as well.

All this is really a lot off our minds. We were supposed to get our tax refund last Friday, but the date was changed to next Tuesday for some reason. That was a huge blow, considering that several bills are coming due in that time -- or have already. We're also looking at trying to pay off some that have gone past due with this rather large chunk of change we're expecting in the mail.

Yeah, preschool teachers? We don't make enough to support two adults and a toddler -- even with government help. And regardless of whether my husband is able to find a job with benefits after he graduates in May, we will lose our government health insurance in October. Why? Because apparently, eight dollars an hour is too much money, and in October our twelve months of "transitional assistance" with medical costs will end. But at least our son will get to keep his until we make about twice that.

But with help from our friends and family -- and the recent warm front -- it feels like we can conquer almost anything.


To read more haiku or to play along, check out A Mommy Story.

The Importance of Vehicle Maintenance

Sunday night I got a call from my dad. Someone had crashed a car into their house.

At first I assumed it was a drunk driver. What I couldn't figure out was, how drunk do you have to be to hit their house? Their neighborhood is an oval -- it doesn't go anywhere else. And they live on the straight part of the street. Furthermore, their driveway is half an acre long, and uphill. Seriously? How does that work?

Well, it turns out the driver was not drunk. It was a 70-year-old woman whose gas pedal in her new Toyota got stuck. She was visiting my parents neighbors across the street, started to back out of their driveway, and the pedal stuck. The car traveled across the street, up my parents driveway, into their garage door, the supports on the front porch, over the lavender bush, and into their next-door neighbor's tree.

Thankfully, my parents, and their cat, are fine (just somewhat shaken). Their cars even survived without so much as a scratch on either one.

But it was scary walking through their front door yesterday. Bricks, wood, glass, pieces of the car were everywhere. Miraculously their rocking chairs were unharmed as well. There is a temporary support holding up the porch ceiling, and the entire garage door is gone now. My parents' bedroom is crooked, and basically looks like it could come down at any minute. My mom says she won't sleep there for awhile, and I don't blame her -- even though it was deemed safe.

So, the lesson for today: Have your car inspected by a mechanic you know and trust. Get a Carfax report (or another report) before you buy. Take it in for regular checkups, just like you would your kids. After all, it is your life, and the lives of your passengers, that it's carrying.

New York, New York

Last weekend (February 6-8, not Valentine's Day) we had our seconnd-ever family vacation. Well, sort of.

Our first-ever family vacation was more of a long weekend. We were still living in Boston, my son was about 6 weeks old, and my aunt-in-law Krystie, who lives in New York, wanted to see the baby us before we moved back to Ohio. She bought us Amtrak tickets there and back, and we took the very pleasant 4-hour train ride to Manhattan.

Adam slept much of the time while on the train and while in the city. We went to an art gallery and saw a glass blower, had dinner in a few very nice restaurants (between my husband's 22-dollar lobster platter -- which included an entire lobster, several mussels, shrimp, scallops, and clams over pasta -- and his uncle's cooking, we ate very well). Krystie took me shopping, and Brandon and I had our first post-baby date at a Mexican restaurant where they made the guacamole right there in front of you.

This time was another long weekend, and it wasn't exactly a vacation for my husband. Our friend writes for MovieWeb, and they wanted him to attend the New York Comic Convention. He needed someone to film the interviews, so my husband obliged. It worked out for all of us: Brandon got to go to the convention, Aaron got free lodging with us at Krystie's (and half the price of gas), and Adam and I got a vacation.

We drove up on Thursday with the help of the TomTom. Apparently there's a difference between 17th Street and East 17th Street, and we ended up lost in Brooklyn at 1:30 AM. Overall, though, we made pretty good time and the baby slept most of the way there.

Friday the guys went to the convention. Krystie was working, and Dan (her fiance -- the "uncle" I mentioned before) was running errands, so it was just Adam and me all day Friday. And he decided to take a four-hour nap -- he was exhausted from the trip. So I got Friday afternoon all to myself, to watch a movie, take a nap . . . and paint. My. NAILS!!! I haven't done that in about 2 years. Every time I find myself with free time at home, I use it to clean or read other blogs. With no such distractions in NY, I spent four hours pampering myself.

Saturday we took the baby to the library, where they had a children's play area. A five-year-old boy played hide-and-seek with him, and brought him blocks to stack. Then we went for a walk, saw a film crew, and Krystie and I had lunch while Adam fell asleep in his stroller.

That night my husband came back from the convention around 9 o'clock, so Krystie took me out to meet her coworkers at a birthday party. We went to a really nice bar, where I had the best chocolate martini of my life and a great time chatting, dancing, and playing terrible pool.

Sunday we drove home, and Aaron gave Adam a stuffed Venom doll he had bought at the convention. He giggled and immediately started chewing on it. It's the cutest little scary thing you've ever seen.

Really, though -- one of these times, we're going to have to go to New York when it's not winter (although it was actually quite pleasant last weekend) and actually stay for a week or so, and, oh, I don't know, maybe even do a little sightseeing.

Where did you go on your last family vacation? Ever been to New York? Feel free to comment.

Weekend

Yeah, I know -- it's Tuesday, but I felt like this was a cool enough weekend to write about. Sunday night I was busy writing the PBN post (at the last minute, as usual), and yesterday I didn't have time to write a well-thought-out post, so I just put up the meme. Sorry folks, my life outside this blog is pretty busy.

Anyway, Friday was my son's actual birth-day. As a special birthday treat, my husband brought him to the center just before lunch, where we we were having a school assembly for Shabbat with Marc, the musician who performs every Friday. This week, parents were invited to come for the assembly as well, so I thought it might be fun for my son to come. Not to mention, Clifford the Big Red Dog was the special guest. That night, we went over to my mom's house for pizza, cake, and presents from her, my dad, and my sister. Oh, and my sister taught the baby to say, "Ho, ho, ho!"

Saturday dawned bright and snowy. I was running late, but I was even more so because of the weather. Fortunately, I wasn't the only one. I got ready for the day, picked up the cake, and headed over to my parents' church. We had the party in the basement, where the kids have Sunday school every week. My mom bought some mylar balloons and I put up crepe paper. My dad helped me move the tables and chairs and set up tablecloths, the food table, and the gift table.

Almost everyone was late. But things slowly got moving, and we had a pretty typical party: food, cake and ice cream, gifts, mingling. We went to Giant Eagle for the cake, and it was a pretty decent price, and fantastic white cake (I like theirs better than others, and better than their chocolate: the white cake is almond-flavored). Plus, when you purchase a birthday cake for a child's first birthday there, they give you a free "smash cake", a 5-inch confection just for sinking a baby's face into. I have to say though (and this may be typical of any place you purchase birthday cakes from), we didn't get the plastic Winnie the Pooh toy. They wanted an additional $8 for it, but at least they told us about it when we ordered it, and gave us the option of not buying it.

Adam didn't seem to care for the cake too much -- but he loved the icing. Ice cream too, although I don't know which he liked better, since my mom was feeding him while I was running around like a chicken with my head cut off. My sister and I then cleaned him off, which took some doing, since we weren't at home where we could just plop him in the tub.

Then we opened gifts, which I think may have frustrated him. We helped him out to move it along, and every time he got a good look at a toy and decided to try to play with it through the packaging, my husband would whisk it away. He got a few clothing items, but mostly toys, which was actually a good thing. We had kind of a lack of age-appropriate toys here at home, even though Grandma's house was stocked with a toy basket full of goodies.

A little conversation later, and most all the guests started helping to clean up and leaving. My in-laws came back to our place to hang out just a little longer since they spent about 3 1/2 hours driving here and about 2 hours actually at the party. Shortly after they left I fell asleep on the living room floor, watching Adam play with his new toys.

Sunday my parents cut down their Christmas tree and we went over to help them decorate it. The baby really liked the ornaments, and got mad when we wouldn't let him touch the glass ones. We spent the rest of the day relaxing.

Anyone else have a good weekend? Bad weekend? Any feelings about the weekend at all?

Wanna Play Again?

Tradition! The holidays are full of it, and my family is no exception. In fact, my dad is probably more a proponent of it than most fathers. He merrily sings the opening song from Fiddler on the Roof and does a little dance any time we ask why he does, well, pretty much anything around the holidays.

We had many holiday parties with both sides of my family when I was younger. Most of the ones my parents hosted were for my dad's side, although my mom's family occasionally came over. But my mom tried to avoid that so she wouldn't have to stress out about my irresponsible cousins and their rambunctious children.

Most of the family events with my dad's family that I can remember at our house were summer cookout holidays, because my in-town aunt usually did Christmas. But even at the handful of fall/winter holidays that we hosted, dinner (and in the case of Christmas, presents!) was always followed by games.

Every family holiday gathering ended with my dad, my aunts, and my grandpa playing Cribbage. And attempting to explain it to my sister and me as kids. Every holiday my dad would try to explain it, we'd mostly understand, and until the next holiday we'd forget it again. To this day the only thing I remember is how to keep score.

It's been almost nine years since my grandfather died. I haven't seen anyone in my family take out the Cribbage set yet. Now our only playful tradition is working jigsaw puzzles during Christmas break.

My mom is a retired teacher and part-time tutor, so she always had a good, long Christmas break that coincided with mine while I was in school. We all loved puzzles, my mom probably the most of all, although I love it just about as much as she does now. My dad would get each of us (my mom, sister, and me) at least one puzzle, sometimes two, and all three of us would spend Christmas day in our pajamas, folding card table in the family room in front of the TV, and work puzzles all day while watching our favorite Christmas movies.

Now that I have my own family, we're still establishing our traditions. My son received more toys than anything else for his first birthday, so I'll bet at least some of ours will be centered around playing!


What are your family traditions? Does your family play any board games, card games, role-playing games, video games, or any games at all? Blog about it at PBN to win some awesome video games from Electronic Arts. Hurry! Contest ends at midnight.

Holiday Realities

Another Thanksgiving come and gone. I was thankful for the 24-hour break between feasts, especially with the added perk of helping an infant feed himself this year -- all I had to worry about last year was third-trimester heartburn.

But it was a great extended weekend, overall. We ended up not going to Mass on Thursday, as I was feeling sick and actually spent most of the day on the couch. Dinner wasn't until a little after 5 o'clock -- we had to wait for my sister's boyfriend. He was supposed to be there sooner, but he was hunting. Seriously? Nothing against hunting or anything, but we were all sitting down at the table, ready to start eating at least 10 minutes before he decided to grace us with his presence.

My son made everybody laugh, first by offering my husband some of his mashed potato-cranberry mess, and later when he had two pieces of turkey sticking out of his mouth and my grandmother said he looked like a walrus. My dad then responded by mimicking the Sesame Street character The Count: "One, two, turkey bits! Ah! Ah! Ah!"

Friday morning we slept in and ended up leaving for Cincinnati around 11:30. The baby slept the whole way there. We spent the afternoon hanging out with my father-in-law, who was installing his new stereo system for his gigundus flat-screen, hi-def tv. My husband's grandmother cooked the dinner, which was wonderful, of course. She -- and her whole family -- is from New Orleans, and she used to teach culinary arts. I relish any opportunity to eat at her house. Cousin Jody entertained the two little ones (mine and his cousin Zoe) with a laser pointer while the adults had after-dinner drinks.

Saturday we spent with some friends we went to college with. They took us out to lunch and talked about her dad's refusal to pay for their modest wedding and his mom's insistence on including items such as lavish centerpieces for their reception. We caught up on local gossip. At six we went to Cousin Jared's engagement party. It was great -- everything I would have wanted, had it been mine. Well, maybe minus the kids. My son, his cousin, and my brother-in-law's daughter were all there and under the age of three (my brother-in-law's "daughter" is actually his girlfriend's daughter, whom he was caring for while she was at work). And there was a pregnant couple there -- but that's a bit different. Jared asked me if I had any advice for them. I said, "Be prepared for anything." I couldn't think of anything wiser or more eloquent at the time. I should have said, "Get a Pack 'N' Play." That thing would have saved us so much grief when we tried to put the baby down for naps in strange beds this weekend.

Sunday we watched Star Wars: Episode III and the Bengals game (yikes). My father-in-law sent us home with his grandmother's Christmas tree and our tray-table set that we apparently forgot to move out of his basement with all the moving we've done over the past few years.

All in all, it was a great weekend. Very festive and fun. The single worst part was going home with all the traffic and torrential rain to several piles of laundry. But we made it a bit better by listening to "The 12 Pains of Christmas".

Holiday Plans

Ah, Thanksgiving: the time of year when we stuff ourselves fit to burst, pass out in front of the television, and then wake up at 3:45 AM to get that great deal on a new vacuum cleaner. All while avoiding Aunt Margie's smothering hug or cheek-pinching icicle fingers.

Most years since my husband and I have been together, we've attempted to have Thanksgiving dinner with both families -- mine, in Columbus, and his, in Cincinnati (for those of you who aren't from around here, they are about a two hours' drive apart). And every year, our families have set dinner for the same time or an hour apart. I was mad: at my husband because we always ate dinner with his family first (and therefore ate more with them), and at my mom for not working out a different time for ours -- seeing as it was at our house.

Last year I was on bedrest and we lived in Boston. One of my husband's friends from BU was kind enough to invite us over for dinner. Her husband was a great cook, and they would have been alone for the holiday too, if not for us. They had a car and came to pick us up so I wouldn't violate my bedrest orders.

This year will be a little different. We'll attend Thanksgiving Mass, since we'll be out of town on Sunday. Dinner today will be at my parents' house, and it will be small, as it's been since my grandmother stopped hosting due to my unruly cousins. My mom, dad and grandma (maternal) will be there, as well as my sister and her boyfriend (who will have eaten at his house already -- my mom is so mad). My dad's sister and her husband will be there, and of course my husband, son, and I will too. And that's it.

Tomorrow we'll drive to Cincinnati and have Thanksgiving dinner at my grandma-in-law's house. She's been talking about doing a Friday dinner for a few years, so all her children can see their in-laws on Thanksgiving day. This year, she's going with it. We expect to see my father-in-law, his fiancee, her six-year-old from her previous marriage, my sister-in-law, brother-in-law, and at least two of their aunts and their families (the third lives in New York).

Then on Saturday, we'll meet up with a couple friends of ours in the area, since we haven't seen them in about six months. That evening, my husband's cousin will be having an engagement party. It was supposed to be Labor Day weekend, but he got called back to New Orleans because of the hurricane. He's a firefighter, and he lives there now, since he went to Tulane for school.

Overall, it should be really busy but a great time. Yay for food!