To Maine and back

I've been job hunting lately. Some of you may smirk and say "When aren't you job hunting?" I usually send out feelers 1-2 times per month, and have been fortunate enough to have a lot of interviews come my way with little effort. Another factor that plays into my job hunting is my job situation. I'm a subcontractor at Lawrence Livermore National Laboratory, and my contract renewal is decided on an annual basis. Every September I fret about us not having a job in October. This year, however, has caused even more fretting. The inability of congress to come up with a budget, coupled with new leadership at the Laboratory have all but made me feel secure with our current job situation, so in June/July I really started hunting. I've had some really good interviews with some interesting companies. My promptings to job hunt were confirmed with a discussion I had last week with some managers that I report to. "We are less than 50% confident we can renew your contract." Luckily, I have some things cooking. This trip to Maine was an interview with The Jackson Laboratory. Everything went really well, despite a few airline setbacks (happens every time I fly back east). We are just waiting to hear back from them to make a decision. Here are some highlights from the trip!

Play Date

In my attempt to keep Madie from driving me mad again today I called up my friend Lindi to invite her daughter to come play for an hour or so. She immediately said yes and so we had little Elise dropped off here around 12. When Madie saw her beautiful, keeping-cool-in-the-Georgia-heat style dress, she suggested that she too should wear a dress--shocking, I know--and slipped into her yellow polka-dotted one so that she and Elise could "both be princesses."

The peace I expected Elise to bring only lasted for about five minutes. Madie then started coming to me with all sorts of complaints about "Elise using my computer" (read "book that plays music"), and "Elise not wanting chocolate milk" (which is, indeed, a hard concept for Madie to grasp, I dare say), and questions about Elise's likes and dislikes. All of these I responded with, "Try to work it out honey," or "I don't know. Why don't you ask Elise what she likes?" So I quickly threw together a lunch and took them out to the courtyard where I walked Finn around in the stroller. I must say we have very picturesque grounds at our complex: all shade trees and deep grass. To watch those two little curly-headed lassies run around in their cheerful dresses was like watching a scene from The Secret Garden--sans Dickon in the wheelchair. The sunlight picked it's way through the leafy branches and lit up the top of Madie's head like she was giving off an aura. They found such delight in "chasing" Finn and me and then I would turn suddenly and reach out to grasp them and they would scamper away screaming. (I'm sure the neighbors loved it.)

It was improved upon by our neighbor and her kids returning from a walk soon after we got out there. Madie and Elise are right in between the ages JulieAnna and Scarlet are, so generally they kind of did their own things each, but I really enjoyed visiting with Michelle. And I'm sure she enjoyed visiting with me, since I'm such an interesting person. Finnegan, of course, was doing his second-favorite activity: sleeping.

It's been so much better than yesterday thanks to Lindi (and especially Elise) and Jessica, who took Madie for a couple hours--okay, it's going on three as I type--to hang out at their place. It's been so nice to actually get some housework done and relax without Madie throwing fits or constantly pestering me for one thing or another. Days like yesterday are 99% caused by boredom, so to have something to look forward to, like a friend coming, helps so much. And then to have something to look back on, like giggling in the trees, tops it off with a little added sweetness.

What A Day

What a daaaaaaaaaay. 

So we all know Mike is gone for the weekend right? And that both--yes BOTH--the kids are sick? And that one of the those kids is under 3 months? And that the other is 3? And that 3 happens to be 

THE AGE OF HORROR

that no one mentions until AFTER you've already born the kid so you can't turn back?

It shocks me that there aren't a lot more 3-year olds put up for adoption.

The first part of the day (aka: Pre-Zumba) went wonderfully. Madie was reasonably happy when she awoke, and although she had wet the bed, I was prepared for that, having not made her go before bed, not taken her in the middle of the night, and having given her a cup of water to sleep with because she has a cough. And because, if there is anyone out there who understands bedwetting, it's me.

At Zumba Madie was also very good. It helped that it was outdoors, so she got plenty of outside time in. And her friend Ezra was there--they were so cute to watch. She took his hand and held onto it for about 85% of the hour-long class. It was adorable.

She spent the rest of the day throwing tantrums and purposely doing things to annoy me after I had asked her over and over and over again to stop. I spent the rest of the day losing my temper with her and counting down the hours until I could reasonably put her to bed. It was miserable.

A friend of mine told me a few weeks ago that her husband is always encouraging her to "just be more patient." "But," she said, "I feel like I'm patient all day long and then just snap at the end of it!" I hear ya, sister! The past two days I have been calm, collected, and tender towards my children even when, on Sunday, I reached THE POINT OF CONVERGING ANXIETIES:

~I am desperate to make it to church, knowing that--with Mike gone--it is likely to be the most adult interaction I get between Saturday and Wednesday morning. Madie is screaming in her bedroom; Finn is screaming in my face; I am in the midst of a poopy diaper, and suddenly a pale yellow stream flows up and soaks the bedclothes, his clothes, his swaddler (without which he doesn't sleep well) and I end up doing laundry on the one day I never have to do laundry. As I watch that stream flow it dawns on me, "This is it. That moment where all the bad things that can happen are happening at the exact same time."~

But I've noticed that if the CONVERGING ANXIETIES hit me as CONVERGING ANXIETIES as they are happening, I am able to suddenly see an irony to it and laugh it off. If, on the other hand, I take them as they come, they pile one atop the other until I reach another point:

THE POINT OF LOOMING OUTRAGE.

That point is as scary as it sounds, and usually is dissipated slowly after a separation of myself from the cause, which is always a child, and this fact means it ultimately ends in a pit of shame. Today, THE POINT OF LOOMING OUTRAGE was reached shortly after Madie backed out of her promise to be my big girl.

I am, overall, a very capable, independent sort of woman. Having my husband gone doesn't necessarily put me out in ability, mood, or even efficiency. But I must say, I am so ready to have him come home. So, so ready.

The Birth Day

Yesterday Miss Madeleine turned 3! Since we had already celebrated with cake and ice cream and presents earlier this month while grandparents were visiting, and again on Friday with a couple of friends who have kids whose birthdays are around the same time, we decided to just keep things simple. 

I don't know why we bother having more than just a "whatever you wish" kind of day for kids' birthdays at all, 'cause this was just perfect! When she woke up, I offered to make whatever she wished for breakfast. She couldn't think of anything special until I started listing them--and crepes with "chocolate butter" (Nutella) won out.

After Zumba I took an ultra-fast shower so Madie could have a bubble bath. This was followed by Dumbo--movies in the morning are rare at this house since they tend to cause *ahem* slightly less than perfect behavior the rest of the day. But today she was a dream.

When Dad got home he threw some meatballs together and pesto and took her out to the pool while I formed the meatballs and got the rest of dinner started. This was a big day because Madie, using her waterwings and her kick board, swam without holding on to anyone for the first time ever! (Aside from being in an innertube, which I don't count.)

For dinner we had pasta with pesto and cheese and meatballs. Madie was born almost a vegetarian, but meatballs are the exception. She loves them! And when they're followed by chocolate ice cream they're even better! 

While we were out shopping I told her she could pick out some flowers for herself. I love getting flowers--I mean, who doesn't?! Of course, she picked the pinkest ones she could find. I love stock. It smells so good.

She spent some time post-supper doing airplane rides with Dad while I worked on finishing the cape her father told her I would make. Thanks, Mike. ;) She asked me a while ago to put a button on her hooded towel so she could have a proper cape (never mind the lady-bug face and antennae) and I told her no, but that I might make her a cape some day. Mike said, "Yeah! Maybe for your birthday!" Well, I guess she remembered that because at Zumba she told a friend of mine that I was going to make her a pink cape today so she could be Belle. Hmmm... I've never made a cape, nor did I have the material (so I thought).

Turns out making capes isn't too difficult. I had an old dress from a friend of hers that had a tear in the waist that I wasn't planning on fixing so I tore it apart and got to work. The only thing we had to run out for was some beribboned bias tape. I think it turned out fairly well! She didn't get it until this morning so we took it out for a spin in the cool, slightly foggy weather.

Finn is thinking something along the lines of, "I really don't care that she has a cape. Let's keep moving."

Move we did! We spent pretty much the whole time running away from the beast. That was fine with me since at a run she can keep up with me at a decent pace. Otherwise I may as well be sitting on the couch.

She looks like some wealthy orphan in a Charles Dickens novel. 

We saw this snail doing some awesome moves on this twig. Honestly, I don't know how it was staying on the thing. I have better pictures of just the snail, but ya know, I didn't know how interested anyone else was to see them. Madie and I loved it though!

I asked her last night at bed time if she'd had a good birthday. "YEP!" she cried and ran off to her room. And that was even before the cape!

Stats on the Finn-Man

So a couple of notes to prelude the main point of this post: (a) we do call Finnegan "The Finn Man." At first, Madie was very much opposed to this until we heard her saying it to him secretly. PSH! Uh uh, girl!

Sorry, got a little carried away with my hip self.

(b) Finn's head, at birth, was a full inch bigger in circumference than Madie's was--and I could have told you that without the nurse telling me that. You smell what I'm steppin' in?

Today was Finnegan's 2-month check up. Let me tell you, he is about 150% easier to take to the doctor's office than someone else in this family (and no, Grammy, I'm not referring to myself). At Madie's two-month check up she did what any two-month old would do: cried. She cried when I took her out of her car seat. She cried when I laid her on the table. She cried when I stripped her. She cried when they weighed her. She cried when they measured her. She cried when they measured her head (and continued to cry every time they tried to measure her head for each appointment thereafter, might I add--often the nurse would leave with an inaccurate measurement from the fight Madie put up and the doctor would have a second go at it while she met with us). She cried and cried and cried when they poked her. She cried when I swaddled her back up, and cried all the way out to the car, where she promptly fell asleep. That was all I had ever known about taking babies to the doctor.

And it's not that I blame her--oh no. I can certainly understand how having some stranger without so much as a lollipop to give her, trying to wrap a measuring tape about her head would be troublesome to say the least.

Finn on the other hand was peaceful, even happy, while we did all of this--except the shots of course. He cooed at the nurse while he lay naked on the scale. He grinned continually at himself in the mirror that ran the length of the table (which is GENIUS to have there, I must say). He didn't even struggle when I held his head to get an accurate length measurement. It was all wonderful! And he only cried while the nurse poked him. Then I wrapped him, nursed him, and walked all the way back home with a happy son.

And now for the fun stuff: his stats!

As of August 14, 2012, Finnegan is 22 1/4 inches long (which is the 25th percentile); 10 lbs. 9 oz. (which is the 25th percentile); and has a head circumference of 41 cm. Guess. Go ahead, guess.

75th.

Which leads Mike to quote possibly his favorite line ever:

"Would ya look at the size o' that boy's heed? It's like an orange on a toothpick."

Finn at two months in an 18-month cap.

Finnegans Blessing

I blessed Finnegan on August 5th, 2012 at the Livermore California Stake Center. Others that helped bless him included Dad, Casey, and Bishop Nolan Cheney. He fell asleep on the walk over to church, slept during the entire blessing, and all the way through the end of Sacrament meeting and all the way home after that! I think Yosemite wiped him out. And believe it or not, he wore the exact outfit I wore when I was blessed. 

Finn and I got matching hats. We were two sharp-looking dudes. 

Grammy and Grampy filling their canteen before they head to Utah. 

Papa's ipad was a hit for Madie. She couldn't get enough! When Grammy and Grampy announced they were getting ready to go, Madie said "But Papa's not going, right?" We all knew what she meant ;)

We then went for a walk to the creek to throw some rocks and pick some blackberries. What a fun weekend!