I suck at this blogging thing

It's ok. You can say it. I just did.

Must figure out some new posts.

Just saying it.

Do you ever need to say something to others so you'll actually follow through with it?

I do.

Often.

So, I'm going to finish a 5K race in the next year. I can come in last, that is fine. But I am going to finish the dang thing.

There said it.

Off to do it now.

Nothing opens the world...

Nothing expands the imagination and opens the world,

Like a boy and his bike.

Pedal on my son, dream big.

Back Seat Driver

Little man likes to think he already has his drivers license.

"Momma, watch out for that broken bridge"

"Mommy, be careful not to bump other cars"

"Mommy, go faster"

"Mommy, go slow or po-wiceman give you ticket"

"Mommy red light"

"Mommy green light"

I only hope he is this careful when he gets his own license.

7 years ago today

7 years ago today...

two doors opened, and I didn't see a single guest.

7 years ago today...

I thought I knew what love was. I had no idea how much better it would get.

7 years ago today...

I was naive, and stubborn. and hotheaded. (ok, so I still am).

7 years ago today...

We began this journey.

Happy Anniversary to my best friend. I love you.

We're on day

101 of rain. Well, not really. However, most of the last two weeks has been rain. Eight of the next ten days is forcasted for rain. That means 3 weeks of my month off will be...rain.

So, we are filling our days with what we can.
-childrens museum
-playplace
-running wild at the mall
-finger painting
-lunch sack puppets
-painting wooden crafts
-coloring
-more coloring
-trains, everyday trains
-building "libraries" aka, playing with wooden blocks
-reading stories
-watching entirely too much television
-playing in the mud (see last post)
-hiking in the rain* I don't recommend. Being the paths are now washed out and little brooks are raging rivers.

And yet, that is all not enough.
I love Koda. More than life. The.child.is.driving.me.insane.

Did I mention my amazing, wonderful, sister in law is coming on Friday to hang out with the kids for the whole day? The WHOLE day?

How many hours away??

:)

Rainy Days

Rain, Rain


Go Away.


Come Again some other day


Never mind...we'll play anyway

A party to a train wreck

We just finished watching a certain reality show about a family with a set of sextuplets and twins. You know what I'm talking about.

When all was said and done, Travis and I agreed. WE felt like crap. I remember catching their show on Discovery Health long before their regular show was picked up. It was a one time glimpse into their lives. The sextuplets were still little babies. I was fascinated. I wanted to know how two people could possible juggle this family.

Five years later, we were a party to a train wreck as it played out before our eyes on television. We tuned in. Our fascination played a role in this mess those poor children now face.

Did those parents CHOOSE to make a regular show? Yes. Did they CHOOSE to continue when it was plain to the world it was destroying the husband/wife relationship? Yes. Would they have found themselves divorcing regardless? Perhaps.

But, I also made a choice. I made a choice to watch. I made a choice to buy a magazine that featured them with photos probably taken by some creepy paparazzi. And for MY choices, at the end of the show, I felt sick.

Regardless of that families choices, I've now made mine. I won't be party to such a gross tragedy. I pray for the best for all of them.

A Moment..

A moment, a snapshot, combined to make a lifetime.

"Take my hand and you will see the best is yet to come" ~author unknown

Photographer Wannabe

I have a confession.

I REALLY want to be good at taking pictures. It is a big dream of mine. I drool at other people's blogs that have exceptional shots. I don't REALLY have a natural eye for taking pictures, hence the wannabe, and I'm not looking to go pro, but it is a hobby I hope to develop. That hobby for a huge boost on my last birthday when my wonderful husband bought me the Nikon D40 I had been daydreaming about forever. It was considered my birthday-anniversary-christmas-valentines gift. (PS honey, your year of holiday coversage from that camera is now up...hint hint).

So, in addition to the shots of the kids, here is one from our front lawn. Nothing fancy, but I like how it came out.

Photographer wannabe extrordinaire ;)

Vacation- Allen Style!

Four Days.

1 large suitcase. 2 backpackpacks. 3 canvas bags. 1 laundry basket full. Several grocery bags of food. 1 Pack and Play. 2 stuffed animals. 1 Bucket of sand toys. 4 VHS movies for the road.

And a partridge in a pear tree.

Stuffed into our mini-van along with the 4 Kia winter tires to go into storage until first snow next fall.

Thus began our adventures. Into four short days we fit boat rides, lots of playing in the sand, a trip to Story Land amusement park, and endless hugs from Grampy Allen and Granny Annie.

The stress, the bug bites, the broken routines...all worth it to create these memories. Koda is finally to an age that he will begin to remember these moments. And I'm confident he won't remember us playing tetris to jam everything into the van, but he will remember being a big boy who road the rollar coaster, or drove the boat with this grandfather. Those moments, those memories. That is why we vacation :)

A Picture is Worth...

My rock, the love of my life, and the best father I could have ever found for our sons. My new favorite picture from our recent vacation.



Much more about our incredible vacation to come.

When did we forget?

(Click image for full size, not sure what I did wrong)

Facebook has become my lazy way to keep up with friends. Or "friends". Facebook defines them the same, but the person I haven't seen or spoken to since I was 11 probably hardly qualifies as "friend". Wait, that is a whole other post. Fast forward to my original thought for a post, while reading the billion status updates today, I became struck at the consistent comments.
"Off for the weekend!"
"Drinking it up with the family!"
"Can't wait for the BBQ!"

Don't get me wrong. I don't find these WRONG, my own isn't so far away form the above.

I'm just struck that somewhere along the way we began to take this holiday for granted. The very fact we get to enjoy this long weekend, the BBQs, the time with friends and family, is all due to the sacrifice so many before us made by defending our freedom. When did we forget? When did it become an after-thought?

As we plan this weekend, we leave tomorrow for four days of family time. I'm thinking a lot about how to introduce the boys to this (and many holidays). Perhaps we will make cards on Monday for the troops still with us, still fighting. I'm still thinking on that one.

For the men and women who gave so much, I don't want to forget. Thank you, we honor you. I pray my boys grow to understand your sacrifice, and that they remember that this long weekend is about far more than roasting hotdogs.

Daddy Daycare

One of the many blessings of living on campus while Travis completes his doctoral program (and my having a very flexible job) is that we can limit the number of babysitters we have to hire. Once that last final is in, summer becomes full time daddy daycare. While I will join the family for the month of June since I am only an 11-month employee, for now, it is all dad, all the time.

Daddy daycare is far less glamourous than that movie that came out a few years back. No mission statement, no fancy digs. Travis's philosophy is simple. Run them until they fall asleep.

Sometimes, literally.

Below was our poor 3 year old after a four mile hike. Kiddo fell asleep on the potty. After this nap it was back out for more adventures.

Jenn Recommends!

I'm back to trying to blog. With summer upon us, I'm hoping it becomes more of a habit.

I wanted to take a moment to pull a total mommy-brag. Tristen, our 22 month old knows all his letters, and his numbers up to ten. He amazes me. I would love to take credit, but I can't. all the credit goes to Meet the Letters and Meet the Numbers DVDs by a company called preschool prep. They are geared to children just learning to talk. I can't say enough about the series. If you know of anyone with wee little ones, I whole heartedly recommend them. They make a perfect first birthday gift!

Tiny glimmer of hope update

This will be quick. The Dean met with the Director of the Child Study Center, and we MAY have a shot at a one year extenion to seek out more permanent funding. This is far better news than earlier last week. Keep those fingers crosse!

When did I become a PTA mom

(first a note. Have some patience with me. I intend to be one of those spectacular bloggers. Sort of like how I always wanted to be one of those girls that journaled. Great ambition, terrible follow-through.)

Two weeks ago, the head teacher at Koda's preK looked grim as he motioned a group of parents rushing to drop off their kids into the observation room. I suddenly felt like I was being hauled off to the principals office in fifth grade. What could it be? Ninja shannigans on the playground? Did a parent sneak in cupcakes? Did we forget- again- to send in the required boots for mud season on the playground?

His look quickly became that of a much older, much more exhausted man. With difficulty, he told us the center may very well be closing. With budget cuts at the University looming, they had told him the day prior the center could not continue to be funded.

At first, shock. Really? This is the lab school for the psychology department. This center serves families who might not otherwise afford preK- particularly our grad students. Really?

Really. In a matter of 24 hours I became a PTA mom. I've written letters to the Dean, the Provost, contacted media, committed a donation, created a facebook group, and tried to think of every way to help.

Two weeks ago I would have told you I was not yet that mini-van PTA mom (ok, so I had the mini-van, but you get my point). I was still "young". Right? Nope. I'm expecting anytime to be that embarassing mom on the picket line for my children.

It's official. I'm "that" mom.

I've got a movie for you...

If you have not seen FireProof I strongly recommend it. Be forewarned, it is a Christian movie and maybe not eveyones cup of tea, but the message is amazing and has really got me thinking about how to be a better wife and build the strongest possible marriage. Travis and I have a solid marriage thank goodness, but who couldn't use a reminder of just how important our vows are. The movie is available in the $1 red box things in grocery stores. Cheap date night, and marriage altering. Enjoy!

You can judge our sanity by...socks.

I realized this morning as I was throwing my wet hair into my daily pony-tail, trying to Downy Wrinkle reduce my only-slightly-dirty-will-have-to-do workpants, and any polo that hides the hideousness of a two child stomach, that the state of our family comes down to socks.


In calm times, at the beginning of semesters, they are neatly folded (even match) and are located in correct drawers.

Then there is mid-semester. Sleep-deprivation has set in, two parents at home at once is reserved for sleeping, and kids are climbing the walls in between preschool, babysitters, and trips to the library.

On this mid-semester morning, I cuss quietly less my three year old introduce new vocabularly during show and tell while I try to find socks. Any socks. They don't even have to freaking match socks. There is a clean pile on the floor, inches from the dirty pile (wait, that is a clean pile, right?), all surrounding a tiny box labeled "mis-matched" socks. See, this box was supposed to have that one sock that made it's way through the washer without a pair. This tiny box is now overflowing. I can no longer tell you if I am wearing my socks, Travis socks, or which kid belongs to what. I can't remember the last time I could find that glorious matching pair so perfectly folded (heck, folded in any way). Last time I opened my sock drawer, jeans were crammed in with a sweatshirt (thanks for putting that laundry away, hun).

Wait, I can remember the last time my socks matched. Winter break. Gloriously quiet, students all home, Travis not in classes, winter break. At least Spring is coming. No need for socks with sandals...unless you are my amazingly fashion faux-paus husband with his awesome white socks and birks combo.

And that is about all I have to say about socks. May we all have folded-socks days ahead.

Ahhh.... locked out

I've been locked out of my blog for a couple of weeks. Sorry for the absence. Now that I apparently have been magically granted access again, I will try to come up with a few good reads. Stay tuned!

Koda-isms

Just a few laughs at the expense of my three year old and his ever expanding vocabulary and imagination...

Koda: mommy! I threw my po-wice car behind the freezer
me: aw, too bad.
Koda: mommy get it
me: oh no, the freezer is too heavy (lying through my teeth)
Koda: oooohhhhh, too heavy. Daddy get it later
me: yeah maybe
Koda: daddy bigger than mommy
me: I sure hope so
Koda: no, not daddy. A dinosaur is going to move the freezer to get my po-wice car. Dinosaur bigger than daddy.
me: yes Koda, yes a dinosaur would sure be bigger.

---------------------
5:15am
Koda (wide awake!!): mommy sleepy?
me: yes Koda, mommy very sleepy
Koda: mommy need coffee?
me: yes Koda, a whole lot of coffee
*Koda slimbs on my lap and wispers in my ear in the sweetest voice*
Koda: mommy, I need hot chocolate
me: not at 5 in the morning mister.

----------------------
Bedtime-
me: Koda, say good night to daddy
Koda (screaming): buh-bye daddy, good night, see you tomorrow. See you tomorrow at the star store (Walmart). Koda get a car at the star store.
***Um 1. no, we aren't going to the store and 2. you aren't getting a car. nice try Koda Jude.***

Have you seen my half naked child?

I owe Christmas posts. I've been on an extended mental vacation. I'll get there soon.

First though, a Koda tale.

Tuesday evening at 8pm, Tristen is crying. Again. He is having a terribly rough night. Koda and Tristen share a room, and I know Koda will be up all night. For relief, I decide to put him on the couch. He is excited, grabs some tonka trucks to cuddle with (you know, because cold metal is so cuddly to three year olds), and dozes off almost immidiately. I swear, he was so happy I think there was a smile on his face.

Travis and I are exhausted. RA training has begun for me, which means long days and even longer nights. Travis has the kids all day, in ridiculous Maine weather that would cause anyone to climb the walls, all while trying to get ready for a new semester. Travis asks if he needs to set the alarm. Nah, Koda is the perfect alarm. A very loud "momma, get up now! Momma I wet. Momma I want show. Momma I hungry. Momma! Momma! Momma!" greets me daily at about 6:30-7:00 am. E-v-e-r-y-d-a-y. *Yawn.

I sleep. Heavily. Tristen finally settled, and for once didn't wake up in the night. I awoke feeling like something wasn't right. For one, it wasn't dark. If you now Maine in the winter, you know you wake up to dark, drive to work in dark, drive home in dark. It's just, well, dark. I bolt up in bed and see it is 9:30am. Crap, I'm late for work.

I jump out of bed and hear a racket in the kids room. Noticing that Koda was no longer on the couch, I assume he has gone back to his room to wake up Tristen- being the wonderful big brother trouble maker he is. I think to myself that I have just enough time to go to the bathroom before they hear me. As I placed my hand on the door I got the mom feeling. The gut-screaming- something isn't right - moment. I throw open the bedroom door to Tristen throwing Mickey Mouse at me saying "hi, hi, hi, dada (he gets a little confused), hi, hi hi". No Koda.

Getting a little panicked, I check the bathroom. Pitchblack, no sign of him. I recheck the bedrooms, and the living room. Nothing. Stinker MUST have gotten into my office. I climb over the babygate that he would have scaled, and open my office door. There was evidence he had been there as papers were thrown all over the desk and markers sat with caps off, long since dried. My latest pay stub was even glued to my deskfront. No Koda. I can't breathe.

I run into the apartment and scream for Travis who begins to run out of the apartment. I yell at him to put on a shirt (big hairy men in only underwear can scare away the natives and all), as I run barefoot out the door. Our door exits in to the college community center. Our nice, yet not bright custodian was cursing at some wax machine. I run by , still in my ragged Tshirt, sweatpants, bed head hair, yelling have you seen my three year old? Nope.

I see the front door. No way. No way he would go outside. He knows better. I KNOW he knows better. We've talked about this. I push open the door just as...

the public safety cruiser pulls up out front with Koda sitting with a woman in the passenger seat. I'm filled with panic, shock, (I'll admit it...embarassment...). the police officer comes in and informs myself and Travis who just ran around the corner now somewhat clothed that Koda had been found in a parking lot 5 minutes from our home. He was just walking away....in a sweatshirt, soggy diaper, and socks. That's all. He chose to take his pants off prior to departure.

The police officer asked in his slightly condescending -what kind of parents are you- tone, "How'd he get outside?". I invite him in to see the fortress I thought we'd created. The four, yes four, gates surrounding our living room. The chain locks (which obviously I forgot to engage in my office). I can barely talk. I can just feel him looking at me, I'm just happy to have my boy clinging to me. The officer is convinced he has been out for a long time. I actually don't think so, but I'm not going to push my luck with the guy. He tells us we have a Hoodini on our hands and leaves.

As the door closes Koda looks up and grins, "watch show". Oh no, mister, we have some talking to do.

He told us he was walking to the playground. He actually made it half way. And by our estimation, was outside for 5-10 minutes. That isn't good, but holy hell, it could have been so much worse.

I spent the day in a daze. I called my boss since I felt public safety would surely tell her. Fortunately, she got facilities to come install heavy duty deadbolts at the top of the door frame. They were installed by the afternoon. We initially heard grumblings of it being against fire code, but calls were made and someone, somewhere, gave the rubber stamp approval.

I sat at my keyboard a few hours later and found myself still shaking. Still shaking while one room over I heard Koda giggling, and still asking for his show. And Travis still telling him that we do not go outside without mommy or daddy.

At ten that night, long after Koda had gone to sleep (in his room...from now on, always in his room which has one more babygate he'd have to scale. One extra gate of protection), I checked on the baby. Knawing on his stuffed Mickey's nose like always, sighing contently, I walk to Koda's bedside. He's dressed in the warmest PJs I could find. And heavy socks. I watch him sleep, clinging again to his 70's era tonka trucks. I can't help pile blankets on him, as though somehow keeping him warm now makes up for however cold he felt outside. I ended up sobbing for all that could have been.

I must have checked the doors twenty times last night. Travis got up several times to check himself. I heard him pull the gates to be sure they were secure. I heard him try to open the doors, making sure just one more time that Koda wouldn't leave again. At 2am a drifted in and out of the most restless sleep I have ever had. At 7am I hear what was music to my ears. "Momma, I wet. Momma, I want show. Now. Momma! Momma!..........."

Someday, it will all be funny. Maybe even someday soon. For now, I am thankful for guardian angels and for things that never were. Mommies, don't underestimate your little ones. Get a lock that is well out of their reach well before you ever need it.