Old Stomping Grounds: San Diego

Back in July, Wayne had the opportunity to attend an AP conference in San Diego (so whimsically named "AP by the Sea"), and so we tacked on a few extra days and made a family vacation out of it! I've already alluded to some of the horrors of traveling with a toddler, but as a whole, and even in individual parts, it was a very fun time! Because even a spirited two-year-old can't (completely) spoil our time seeing dear friends and visiting old stomping grounds in a city which Wayne and I hold so, so dear to our hearts.

One of my favorite parts of the trip was bringing Caedmon to the beach for the first time. He LOVED the sand and was AMAZED when I showed him how to make "sand castles" by flipping over a bucket filled with damp sand. AH-mazed. He also had his first taste of genuine SoCal fish tacos from South Beach in Ocean Beach (a mouthful, I know), but the best was when Caedmon met the ocean. I can still hear his shrieks and giggles... (mostly because Caedmon loves replaying the video clip over and over and over... and over again).

Wait, what?! How did you do that?

He's enjoying himself so much that you can kind of see some drool glistening from his lips.

Taking a bite of South Beach's incredible fish tacos... NOT a meal for the napkin-less.

Hm... I shall write it up as... inventive yet unpresumptuous.

We had just suggested that we walk into the waves. I love his look of concerned anticipation.

Here it comes!

And then he loved it...

... until he got some water up his nose, and then he didn't want to go in anymore.

Another highlight was visiting UCSD again. Oh, my goodness—how it has changed! And how we have, too, made especially apparent by our little guy running around our old campus.

Our block on Library Walk! This shot took about a gajillion takes. Caedmon's zombie-gaze is due to the video we're holding up as a carrot next to the camera lens.

This kid is forever climbing...

forever running...

dancing...

... and sometimes pontificating.

Peterson Hall is where Wayne and I met that fateful night of the Harvest scavenger hunt. Who knew that out of that night would emerge an enduring friendship, and then many years later, this rambunctious little boy! (Though if someone had told me this that evening, I would have FREAKED. OUT.)

In the Muir Quad. My Freshman dorm window was the fourth one down from the top, facing the quad (right above Wayne's little fluffy hairs). 7th floor Tioga!

Geisel Library

 And here are two last pictures of us in the Gaslamp...

... running, as usual.

... and wreaking havoc on the traffic signals. That's my boy!

Hello, City Bus!

Caedmon, like many little boys, has an obsession with all things motors and wheels—the bigger the better. You can imagine what it's like to drive down the street with this kid as we pass 3+-axled vehicles—trucks, big rigs, car transporters. He does not yet talk (much), but that in no way curbs his enthusiasm: "Mama! A-Mama! Eh! Eh! Eh! A-Vvvvvah! A-Vvvvvah!" And it only escalates if I don't acknowledge the grand splendor outside his window; he just needs to share this with the world!

Lately, we have witnessed a new emotion—pining. Whenever a bus drives by, Caedmon gesticulates wildly—flailing, grunting, squealing—and then my little piglet points desperately to himself: "Inside!" We've noticed it since our trip to San Diego when, walking along the streets of the Gaslamp and getting up close to the dense traffic around us, he made a discovery that probably rocked his world: people sit inside these great glorious machines. He's been wanting a part of this action since.

It's funny that he's only recently made this connection, because we've been reading a book with him called Hello, City Bus! for the past year. In it, little animals wait in line and ride the city bus across town. (Spoiler alert: they get to their destination. It's riveting.) But I guess when you're two, and your world is not only new and unfamiliar, but also filled with a bunch of UNTRUE stuff (like little animals who wait in line and ride a city bus across town), it takes some time to figure out what is real and genuinely awesome. Riding the city bus is one of them.

And so a few days ago, we, being the amazing parents we are, cleared our morning schedules to make our son's dream come true. We looked up bus routes and times—or I should say, Wayne looked up bus routes and times, because this little suburbanite gave up with the maps and time tables and handed it over to her husband. (This is why, despite the fact that I can swim really well, I would make a sucky partner for The Amazing Race.) After counting out exact change for fare, we were off on our adventure... to Target! And if you ask Caedmon, I'm sure he'd tell you it was the best day, which is all that matters.

(Actually, he'd probably just grunt. But you get the idea.)

Here comes the bus!

We are getting on the bus! (Though the real reason I included this picture is because it captures the good hair day I was having. These are few and far between and must be celebrated.)

This is the face of a boy whose dreams are being actualized.

Contentment. Right here.

After our trip to Target and a scarfed down lunch at L&L (hurried, in order to catch the bus—who knew bus-riding could be so stressful?), Caedmon excitedly announced the bus's approach: "Mama! A-Mama! Eh! Eh! Eh! A-Vvvvvah! A-Vvvvvah!"

"Are we done yet with this selfie business? I want to get back to my window."

And then it was time to say, "Goodbye". I look a lot more distressed than Caedmon, but what you can't hear is Caedmon's whimpering as he points to his chest: "Inside!"

So sad. Next time, Buddy!

Giving In AND Being a Good Mom

We are on Day 6 (of 9) of our San Diego/LA trip, and while we're having a grand ol' time, Caedmon is surely feeling the strain of constant late nights and early mornings.  On Tuesday, I took him with me to meet with an old friend for lunch, and all of these late nights and early mornings manifested itself into one horribly whiny, restless, screaming toddler who could have been a poster child for birth control.  I think I spotted little horns sprouting from his head. 

It was definitely the worst experience I've had with him at a restaurant yet, and though I took him outside several times to discipline him (which usually works), it did nothing to quell his tantrums.  To rub salt into the wound, next to us were two tables practically brimming with highchair-aged children, all sitting prettily and obediently.  I was mortified. And I was frustrated that I didn't get to catch up with my friend very well at all.  I found myself explaining apologetically, "He's not always like this", which is really what moms with misbehaving children say to make themselves feel better.  There was no question about it, I was paying for her lunch; I felt so bad. 

Afterwards, I kept thinking about what transpired earlier that day. In the back of my mind and diaper bag had sat a guaranteed solution to Caedmon's tantrums—an old disconnected smartphone that we use as a video device. Caedmon loves videos (what toddler does not?), but I try to limit his screen time, because well, that's the Good Mom thing to do. A Good Mom feeds her children healthy, well-balanced meals without too many sugary snacks in between.  A Good Mom teaches obedience with firm yet gentle rebukes.  And a Good Mom most definitely limits screen time. A Good Mom doesn't sedate her child every time she needs him to behave, which isn't obedience at all but a state of comatosis.  And a Good Mom definitely wouldn't give her child the device as a reward for his ill-behavior.  And I want to be a Good Mom.  Still, I couldn't help but think that by sticking to my no-screen-time convictions, I had simply set us all up for failure.

Though I don't want to be an indulgent parent who creates a virtual monster, I also don't want to be so rigid that in training up my child, I miss the larger perspective that along with striving to be a Good Mom, I am also a wife, a friend, a sister.  Balancing and valuing these different roles is just as important as embracing my role as mother. Caedmon's problem was that he didn't know how to exercise self-control at the table, and he surely wasn't going to learn how in that moment while I was out with my friend, when he was already tired and cranky.  Perhaps I should have been more acute to signs of early meltdown, and considering the priority of meeting with a faraway friend I hadn't seen in years, offered the device as a reward for doing something good, anything good (and then kept a mental note to work extra hard on this obedience thing at home). 

Today, I had another lunch date with an old coworker and dear friend, and with my diaper bag slightly bulgier than usual, I was armed with a smarter and fuller arsenal.  And I wasn't afraid to use it.  BAM!  Out came the freeze-dried fruit chips *gasp* before lunch.  ZAP!  Graham cracker cookie bites are oh-so-yummy instead of the quesadilla ordered for lunch. POW!  Whining? Have some fruit snacks.  I was prepared to pull out the bazooka—the smartphone—when I realized I had accidentally left it behind (blast!), but thankfully, there was a bulldozer shoveling dirt RIGHT OUTSIDE THE WINDOW. I kid you not. It was like God sent me an angel in the form of a Cat construction vehicle.  

And so Caedmon was stuffed with sugary treats (more or less wholegrain and made with all-natural fruit juice, this defensive mommy insists on adding), but he was content, and I was too, because this friend and I were able to talk and reconnect and reminisce, which is salve for any soul.  And when we return from vacation, we'll work on table manners—apart from long-awaited reunions with friends and unassuming diners trying to enjoy their meals. Sugary snacks and Veggie Tales galore will not be a norm, but sometimes, I need to know when to give in a little, for my sake as well as his.  

Because, really, I'd go broke if I kept paying for lunch. 

How to Train Your Dragon

According to the Chinese zodiac, babies born in the year of the dragon are dynamic, powerful born leaders who, on the flip side, are also feisty, aggressive, irritable, stubborn, and insistent upon getting their way.  Such is the yin and yang of life, isn't it?  For every virtue, there is an equivalent vice, which is really just the virtue in its raw, unhoned form.  

True to his birth year, Caedmon is most definitely such a dragon.  And at 26 months, he is right on cue in reaching his terrible twos. This, coupled with three weeks in the care of overindulgent grandparents while I worked an abnormally full schedule, has resulted in Caedmon showing more of his vices than virtues.  He is, indeed, feisty, aggressive, irritable, stubborn, insistent upon getting his way, and may I add, volatile.  He is definitely in his unhoned form.  I think if he could breathe fire, he would.  

I understand that all toddlers test their limits, but Wayne and I are also recognizing that Caedmon seems especially strong-willed.  We recognize the traits—fierce independence, a tenacious spirit, stubborn resolve, and fearless abandon.  To our chagrin, we suspect that Caedmon is simply a reflection of our strongest attributes—Wayne’s stubbornness and my passionate nature.

So then my quest is really how to train my dragon, to discipline my child.

Of course, I've done my research.  I've talked with other moms.  And naturally, me being me, I've read books.  

I am encouraged by author and theologian John Piper who recently wrote a compelling piece on his blog, exhorting parents to teach their children obedience not simply because it's commendable, but because it's imperative to their eternal well-being.  Or Ted Tripp in Shepherding a Child’s Heart or Ginger Plowman in Don’t Make Me Count to Three who teach that we must tend to the hearts of our children, where the root of the undesired action lies... yes, to use the rod, but to do so responsibly and in constant conjunction with loving communication, a solid relational foundation, and regular review of the Word which maintains that our Father desires our obedience for our GOOD.  We are to discipline our children not merely to elicit behavior modification, but to foster true character growth.  I am not just convinced, I am convicted.  There is so much I want to teach Caedmon so that he grows in the way of the Lord. 

And so I'm girded with practical advice, Biblical references, and the best of intentions... I am ready to tame this beast.  Cue heroic music.  

But then Caedmon screams while I'm checking out a book at the library.  And I feel the disdainful looks of the other moms whose children are quietly flipping through The Rainbow Fish and Amelia Bedilia (or maybe these are looks of empathy, but I'm too self-conscious to notice).  He melts into a pool at my feet while I'm trying to get to the bathroom, so that I am now shuffling and dragging a wailing toddler behind me.  He clenches his fists while his face turns red, his tantrum reaching a new decibel—all because we turned off his Veggietales.

In one fiery bellow, Caedmon has set my well-meaning plans aflame, singeing my outward confidence and my baby hairs, but not my inner resolve.  I will press on, because I believe my efforts are significant… even though the “how” in the equation is still (quite) a bit elusive.

I am heartened by the small bit of progress we’ve seen recently.  In the two weeks that summer has begun, and I have been home with Caedmon exclusively, we have made significant headway in obedience-training.  And by “training” I am really referring to myself, because I am learning to set limits for a two-year-old, to be firm with my baby, how to teach what is right and wrong, and how to administer loving discipline when he falters.  (And how to keep a straight face when he, say, draws all over himself with markers or brings me a clump of Lucy’s poo.)  This is no small feat, and just last week, I was able to change Caedmon’s diaper without his throwing a tantrum!  Get this—I said firmly to him, “Caedmon, Mommy is going to change your diaper.  I do not want you to cry or whine.  If you do, you will get a spanking.  Understand?”  To which he nodded, “Yes.”  And… he took my hand and QUIETLY and HAPPILY walked to his room.  Whoa.  I was floored, and honestly, still am a little.

Small steps.  But I’ll take small steps if they’re headed in the right direction.

Training my dragon on the obstacle course.

Moving In Together: Our New (Old) Home

To make more room for Caedmon to play and for (potential) future kiddos (no, we are not expecting!), our little nest has been going through some minor reshuffling and redecorating.

Our major obstacle in maximizing our three-bedroom abode was maintaining a space for both me and Wayne to work on our individual projects--me with my scrapbooking and crafts, and Wayne with his... computer games.  (Okay, I guess there's also lesson planning for work and preparing for Bible study... but definitely plenty of computer games.) Our ultimate solution was to purchase a smaller desk for Wayne and move both desks into our bedroom, along with our brimming bookshelves which were originally in the guestroom.   Before babies were in the equation, we both had our own entire rooms, so this moving in together took some adjusting to.  We joke that our new arrangement is reminiscent of dorm life, or that with all this added furniture in one small space, it's like living in an IKEA showroom, but actually, I quite like our new set-up.

Here are some before and after photos:

 Master Bedroom--Before

I can't believe we lived in this sad, sad cell for over four years before putting up any sort of decor or color!  Since it was a room that most people didn't see but us, it became last on my priority list.

After

This is much happier!  And a smarter use of space.  1. Framed fabric, inspired by a friend's crafting post.  2. Wayne's smaller, sleeker desk operates as a work station and nightstand.  Side storage compartment houses messy computer wires and a built-in USB hub.  3. What a difference one decorative pillow makes!  4. Billy bookcases from IKEA lined in the back with shelf paper for a custom look.  5. These lamps from Target placed up high were an economical alternative to recessed lighting.  6. My big, honking desk fits!  Yay!

Wall gallery of photos FINALLY up!

Living Room--Before

After

1. I constructed this window seat using two IKEA Kallax shelves, following this tutorial.  2. IKEA Drona fabric bins in white are painted with fabric paint to coordinate (I used Martha Stewart satin finish craft paint in "wet cement".)  3. Envelope pillow covers are my new sewing obsession!  4. Rug from overstock.com.

 Caedmon now has so much more space to play, and his toys are neatly tucked away when not in use.

Some window seat tutorials recommend attaching legs to the bottom of the structure, but when we did, the seat was too high for my short limbs, so we had to take them off.  Another roadblock we came across was how to level the window seat, since ours rests partially on the rug and hardwood.  What we ended up doing was inserting random pieces of thin wood under the seat on the hardwood (an extra shelf from a bookcase and leftover wainscoting from the previous homeowners)--simple, economical, and effective!

Guest Room--Before

After

This room is definitely still a work in progress, as I'd like to put up curtains and, perhaps, reupholster the armchair, which right now, is a complete eyesore against the grays and yellows. Still, I don't want to invest too much into this room, since it will be probably be Caedmon's before long, and I'll have to change everything again.  I do absolutely love the map art from my sister and brother-in-law; it will work even when this room becomes Caedmon's.

We All Scream for Ice Cream (Especially Caedmon)

Gunther's Ice Cream in Sacramento, CA

A couple of weeks ago, we took a trip to Gunther's.  We love this old-fashioned ice cream parlor that is as much a proverbial Shangri-la of sugary confections as it is a fixture in iconic Sacramento.  As if we need an excuse to go, I had an Entertainment Book coupon that was about to expire, and who can let free ice cream go to waste?  Plus, I thought it would be fun to capture Caedmon's first taste of ice cream.  Well, his second. His first was a hilarious contortion of his face in response to the unfamiliar freezing temperatures in his mouth, but without a camera, the moment was lost.  This time, we were armed and ready.  Wayne voiced his concern, though.  "Are you sure you want him eating ice cream at this hour?  All for the sake of a picture?"  "Don't worry," I reasoned.  "He doesn't like it. I just want a picture for his scrapbook."  

Oh, how I was wrong...

No, thank you.  This is new and strange.  I do NOT want to try it! 

I'd really rather play on this window ledge and bombard the people in the next booth with my cuteness.

Nevermind that there's a placard that says, "Parents, please keep children off the window" that Mom didn't see until way later... Oops.

Okay, I'll give it another try...

Oooh... that's good!

I need another bite.

And another...

What do you mean, "That's enough"?!  

Crying and screaming ensued, but we brought it upon ourselves, right?  We took him outside, which always does the trick.  And though our evening dissolved into a slight meltdown, I would say it was a rather happy ending... Not only did we get our fill of ice cream for our stomachs, and I, fodder for my scrapbook, Wayne and I were able to witness the likes of a budding love story, because if this boy is anything like his parents, he will be blissfully entangled in this sweet, creamy romance for years to come.

Okay, I'll play on this bike rack... I'm easily distracted.  But Mom, when's my next ice cream cone??

If I Could, I Would, but I Can't, So... Let Me Think About It

I just received a call from Valley High School, where I taught during my first year.  They have a .6 position open for next semester (meaning I would teach 3 classes instead of the usual 5 plus a prep period), and they actually remembered how I mentioned in passing last year that if I were to teach now, it would be part-time at a .6.  The VP who called even went on to say that he doesn't do this for everyone, but because of the teacher he knows I am, he would work with me to give me the classes and schedule that would work best for me.  (Wow, so flattering...)  And my response?  I told him that I'd think about it!

What??  I can't go back right now!  Not next semester already.  I've made a commitment to Caedmon to stay with him at least another school year, and really, a not-set-in-stone-but-pretty-much-there commitment to our family to stay home until all the kids are in school.  Plus, I already HAVE a .6 contract from which I'm currently taking a leave!  Though I have talked about going back to Valley, an inner-city school where I feel I'm actually making a difference, if not academically, but as a (perhaps) rare positive adult in my students' lives, I know in my heart of hearts that this is not the right timing for this opportunity.

So then why did I say, "maybe"?  

Because I didn't want to say "no".  Because for a few days, I want to feel like I have options, that I am someone who is valued for her abilities and talents.  That I could actually be good at something again, because though I know it's trite to say, I honestly do feel like I am failing miserably at this new job as stay-at-home-mom to Caedmon (post about that in the works).  That maybe I can put my time into something that will yield more tangible and quick-bearing fruit (though this is teaching... Really? There is absolutely no guarantee of any such tangible or quick-bearing fruit!)

But.  But this--staying home and raising Caedmon--is worth it, right?  He just woke up and is now screaming... always the screaming... My patience is so thin... I'm so tired... Yet this is worth it.  Right?  Though I don't feel like it at all in this moment, I know it is--for us.  In no way do I equate being a good mom to staying home, but if we have thought it through and have made a commitment, I feel it WOULD be remiss of me to change my mind based solely on my fleeting circumstances and Caedmon's ever-changing moods.  And so I just have to grin and bear it.. maybe even cry and bear it, but bear it all the same, because though these fruits are elusive and slow during the toddler years (and perhaps through the elementary years and the teenage years--God, help me...), I do trust and believe that I am where I should be right now.  No, I'm not trying to be a martyr, just a mother who sometimes has a rough day (make that many days)... who will turn down a job offer next week so that she can keep doing what is currently kicking her butt.  

"Let us not be weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up."  Galatians 6:9

This is Trouble...