if there was ever a day where I needed caffeine, today was it.

My weekend can best be expressed chronologically in three short sentences:

1. Evan can climb out of a pack & play.
2. We have rats.
3. Evan can climb out of his crib.

As I’m sure is obvious, it was a phenomenal weekend. We went down to my parents’ house for a visit on Saturday night and when we put Evan down to bed in his pack & play, he nonchalantly walked out of the room .06 seconds later clutching his blanket. He was quite pleased with himself. Needless to say, we were not. After several gettings-up and puttings-back-down, we decided that the issue was that the pack & play was too close to the bed, which he was using to vault himself easily out. We fixed that, then he fell asleep and we didn’t see him again until Sunday morning. We thought our problems were solved.

Until “nap time” on Sunday. I use quotes because there was no nap to be had. I put him down, he got back up. I put him down, he got back up. I put him down, he got back up. Ad nauseam. Finally, I gave up in extreme frustration… after all, we were at Grandma’s house and sometimes we let things slide. My husband, ever the optimist, thought that he wouldn’t try to do it at home. I was hopeful.

So, after a napless afternoon, followed by a massively shocking tantrum brought on by said naplessness, he fell asleep for an hour. At 4 pm. Not helpful! Once he woke up, we drove home.

Once we arrived home, I spent the first few minutes cleaning up some things we had left out, straightening up and taking out the trash. Now, we have seen some mysterious animal droppings outside by our trash cans recently, but so far have never spied the animal(s) who left it. When I opened the trash can to drop the bag in, I saw some furtive scurrying. I didn’t get a good look, but the shape and size of the scurrier said one thing to me: RAT. Horrified, I quickly threw the trash into the can and ran back into the house. My heart was pounding.

I was trying to calm myself down but the heebie-jeebies were getting the best of me. After a few minutes I told my husband what I had seen. He worked up the courage to go out there and check it out but didn’t see anything. We decided that the only option is to call the pest control company and get them to come out ASAP.

With nothing more we could do on the rodent situation, we turned our attention to getting Evan fed and bathed. Fortunately, he was really tired and didn’t take long to fall asleep. We thought for sure we were in the clear. We turned in around 10 pm and fell asleep. Then, at 12:49 a.m., I woke up to the sound of small footsteps and saw Evan standing there saying “want to get in Daddy’s bed.” After some stops and starts, we decided the best course of action was to not talk to him or engage with him, but to take him right back to his bed every time he got up. We did that about 10-15 more times and then he cried for a couple of minutes and fell asleep. Victory. (Sort of.) But I’m sure the two hours he spent awake in the middle of the night are not helping his attitude and behavior today.

And did I mention that today is his first day at his new preschool? When it rains, it pours.

i'm blowing up like a balloon over here

I’m having a hard time getting back into the swing of things after coming home from the trip on Monday night. I’m all discombobulated… laundry isn’t done, house is in disarray… but I can’t bring myself to care or really do much about it.

What I do care about is how shocking it is that at only 11 weeks pregnant, I look like I did at 18 weeks last time. My belly is totally out of control and it’s becoming a problem. I was counting on being able to stay in regular pants for a few weeks to come but alarmingly, it looks like that won’t be possible. Today, I’m wearing a pair of “transitional jeans” that I bought a few weeks after Evan was born. I’m worried that they are a short-term stopgap. Where, oh where can I find cute maternity jeans that will not cost me $200? Help meeeeeeeee!

I told a bunch of people at work the big news yesterday. It feels good to have the secret out. And now I can resume my constant snacking on a slightly less furtive basis.

i know she is resting in peace

I got some bad news last Wednesday when I found out that my grandma died. She was my mom’s mom and the only grandparent I’ve ever known. We left on Saturday to go to Missouri for the funeral, and just got back last night. I’m exhausted today.

It wasn’t entirely unexpected, but it’s still sad. I am sorry that she never got the chance to meet Evan, and that we didn’t visit very often because of the distance, and that I hadn’t seen her more recently when she passed away.

I realized how much it means to people when you recognize their loss. Sometimes you think it won’t make a difference, because they must have been getting so many comments and hugs and notes from other people… but they notice. My office sent flowers to the funeral home, which I found unexpectedly touching. Then, one of the pallbearers came up to me after the graveside service and asked me if I was her granddaughter. When I said yes, he shook my hand warmly and said with tears in his eyes, “She was a really great lady.”

I was so comforted knowing that she had been surrounded by people who knew and loved her. To me, she was always a somewhat distant figure because of the geography. I knew she loved us. I knew that based on the times we did see her, how she would struggle to hold back tears when we left. And because of how even when she was in her nursing home and not feeling well, that she would look at pictures of Evan and they always made her smile.

On the plus side (if there can be a plus side), there was plenty of family time and good home cooking. Honestly, when was the last time I ate fried chicken, creamed corn and mashed potato and bacon casserole - all in the same meal? My Ozark relatives sure know what’s up when it comes to comfort food. However, I saw about 300% more men wearing overalls than I have ever seen here.

When we drove from Southern Missouri back to St. Louis to catch our flight yesterday, I looked out and tried to soak up the rolling green Ozark hills, the tractors, the small towns and even the men wearing overalls, knowing that I might never be back there again.

sweet relief

I can’t tell you how much better I feel knowing that you all know what I know. The secret-keeping, it was killing me. Whoorl was the only one who knew my secret because when she and I met, we had been planning to go out for martinis for weeks. Having just found out the news two days before we met up, there was no way I could show up at the bar and just pretend that I suddenly didn’t feel like drinking a martini. “Oh, no, vodka-soaked olives sound absolutely DREADFUL right now, I’ll just have a club soda.” Uh, yeah. Not very in character. So, I greeted her and immediately spilled the beans.

I’ve been feeling pretty good. I had a couple of queasy weeks, just like I did the last time, but it seems to be dissipating nicely now that I’m almost 10 weeks along. Even two weeks of minor queasiness makes you feel miserable. I can’t imagine how people with severe nausea cope with it. I would die. As it is, I’m just fine as long as I eat all the time. My key to pregnancy happiness involves multiple breakfasts, at least one of which MUST involve bacon. What can I say, I’ve gotta have the bacon.

In other news, I found a preschool for Evan, and he starts there in a couple of weeks. THAT was stressful. Next on my stress list? Potty training, and moving him into a big bed so the crib will be available for the baby. If I had my way, I’d have him sleep in a crib forever. There’s something to be said for the containment. It comforts me.

OK, so I disappeared off the face of the earth for a while. There's a good reason for it. And I really wanted to title this post "pregnant pause," but for some highly annoying reason, Blogger won't let me add a title. Grrr.

But anyway, yes! That's right: I'm pregnant!

I was all stressed out about saying anything too early, and then I couldn't really imagine continuing to blog about a bunch of other things when I had this very exciting news, and so finally I decided that going public was the right thing to do.

So yay. It's happening. Due date is in early February and we couldn't be happier!

toxic

This week = currently kicking my ass. For one, we found out that our daycare provider is moving. She’s moving juuuuust far away enough to make it entirely impractical for us to continue taking Evan there. Thus, I’ve been thrown into a tailspin of stress and preschool tour chaos. Good times.

Then, this morning, we went in to get Evan after he had been awake for about 15 minutes. Lately, he’s taken to telling us when he needs his diaper changed (yep, that means he’s getting close to potty training!). He’ll say “need to change diapers” and hold his arms up waiting for you to pick him up and do what needs to be done. For some reason, despite the fact that we knew this, we heard him wake up and just let him hang out for a few while we ate breakfast. Big mistake. By the time we got up there to get him, you could smell the carnage OUTSIDE HIS BEDROOM DOOR. I knew this was a bad sign.

And I was not wrong. He had taken off his pants and sitting in his crib saying pitifully “need to change diapers.” Um, yeah, you think? Fortunately he hadn’t removed his diaper, but let’s just say that nothing was unscathed. There was a containment issue. We had to immediately remove everything from the crib – blankets, pajamas, sheet, mattress pad – and dump it all into the wash.

Not a very good start to the day, but fitting for the week I'm having.

i've got nothin'

I am SO glad it’s Friday. This has been the longest week in history. We are starting swimming lessons with Evan tomorrow and I can’t wait! He enjoyed them last summer, so hopefully he’ll remember how fun it was and not freak out at the sight of a gigantic swimming pool. You never really know though. Then, we’re going to a kid’s birthday party tomorrow afternoon, and on Sunday, we are having my family over for a Father’s Day barbecue bash. Good times.

Such is the excitement of my life right now. Oh, and yesterday, our housekeeper came, which is license enough to order takeout for at least a couple of nights. You know, don’t want to mess up that clean kitchen!

Yeah well. Like I said, I’ve got nothin’. Have a great weekend…

you win some, you lose some

This morning we were back to some flagrant two year-old behavior. We took Evan to Toys-R-Us over the weekend and bought him some new things to play with. He fell in love with a three-pack of mini monster trucks and immediately adopted one of them as his current favorite toy. It’s a neon green monster truck with giant wheels, a skull and the name “Grave Digger” emblazoned on the side (what, doesn’t everyone want their toddler playing with the Grave Digger?). He’s named this vehicle “Aunt Ryann’s Truck.” For the record, there is an Aunt Ryann, but she drives a blue Jeep. And no, it does not have a skull. So we’re not exactly sure where this specific nomenclature came from. Anyway, he gets really upset if Aunt Ryann’s Truck is not within sight. At all times.

So this morning we were happily driving to daycare until he spied Aunt Ryann’s Truck sitting on the seat just out of reach. Since we were only about two minutes from our destination, AND we aren’t allowed to bring toys from home to daycare, I knew that giving him the truck would be a total disaster. Until I parked the car, I heard nothing but “want Aunt Ryann’s Truuuuuuuck!” Then it went from bad to worse. I went to unbuckle his car seat and he grabbed the sides of his car seat and wouldn’t let go. Tears poured out of his eyes. I finally pried his hands free and muscled him out of the car. Man, if physically yanking your kid out of the car doesn’t make you feel like mother of the year, I don’t know what does.

He cried all the way into the house, pleading for the truck. I couldn’t find anything to distract him from his wailing. Finally, I had to give him a big hug and just leave him there so I could go to work.

Two year-olds. Charming? Most of the time. Rational? Not so much.

example

I often think to myself that it’s lucky that toddlers are as charming as they are because the frequent funny or endearing moments put the challenging times in perspective. Something happened this weekend that illustrated that better than I could ever explain.

Yesterday, Evan was in his high chair eating lunch. Dave was sitting at our kitchen island hunched over his laptop and I walked over and put my arms around him from behind. A few seconds later, Evan piped up.

“Want a hug too,” he said in the clearest, sweetest voice.

Dave and I looked at each other, then at Evan. Tears immediately welled up in my eyes when I saw his little face looking over at us. I went over and hugged as much of him as I could grab hold of and kissed his cheek. I stepped back and then heard the voice again.

“Daddy kiss too,” Evan said.

Dave promptly got up and went over to kiss him also. This went on for a few more minutes as he traded off requests: “Mommy kiss too…” “Daddy kiss too…,” clearly happy that we were doing what he asked.

It just made me realize - again - that this little person watches everything we do and hears everything we say. I am far from a perfect mother, but please, God, let me be an example to be proud of.

nice hat

Last night we went to our next-door neighbors’ house to watch the last game of the Stanley Cup finals. They have two little boys and a putting green in their backyard, so Evan is in heaven every time we go over there.

Everything was going great until I walked by the door to the backyard and saw Evan knock over the dog’s water bowl all over his shoes. After I had cleaned that up, I went back in for a few minutes, until I glanced outside again and saw him prancing around the backyard with THE DOG’S WATER BOWL ON HIS HEAD. Yes, he thought the water bowl made a fine hat.

This made me re-think my earlier decision NOT to give him a bath when we got home.

blind date with whoorl

I started this blog a couple of years ago because my sister thought it would be a good way to stay caught up in each other’s lives. Well, she never blogs anymore, and as you know, I’m hit or miss when it comes to posting. I do read other people’s blogs often, and the weird thing is that you feel like you intimately know the people whose words you read on a daily basis.

Last night, Whoorl and I met for drinks at a restaurant in her neighborhood. Although we’d never met in person before, we had exchanged emails and comments so it felt like we already knew each other. We fell into conversation easily and covered the gamut of topics: kids, husbands, childbirth, work, blogging, the ridiculous price of real estate in California and more (and believe it or not, lip gloss DID NOT EVEN COME UP until the very end). I felt as if I had known her a while. Would I have discussed my retained placenta in gory detail with someone I’m meeting for the first time? Probably not. But with her, it seemed normal. And in my defense, I have to say she started it with some graphic detail of her own! I may have even let her in on a secret or two.

I don’t put a lot of effort into maintaining this blog and sometimes feel guilty about that. I also don’t really write on this blog as therapy, maybe because my tone is usually a little more tongue-in-cheek and tends toward sarcasm rather than true emotional openness. But if blogging is a way to not only stay caught up with people you already know, but to meet new friends and find things in common, that is really pretty cool.

So thanks Whoorl, I had a great time and would love to do it again!

p.s. Am quite jealous of your beautiful dark shiny hair.

you know it's a good toddler weekend when...

…you have to leave a store before buying anything because a tantrum has reached epic proportions.

…your child wakes up at 5:15 a.m. two days in a row.

…Sunday afternoon’s nap, which should be two hours, turns out to be only one hour.

…when you take him to the park after much pleading, he becomes extremely upset when the swings are occupied and says loudly and whiningly “MY SWINGS! MY SWINGS!”

...and, to cap it all off, your child pees in the closet.*

Two is awesome.

*I have to confess that I found the peeing in the closet incident to be rather funny. My husband, not so much, because he was on cleanup detail.

pants rant

This morning as I was getting dressed, I stood in my closet pondering what to wear. I took a pair of black pants from the Gap off the hanger and thought “Hmmm, I haven’t worn these in a while. Score! It’s gonna feel like I’m wearing new pants!” So, I put them on and was feeling good about recycling them…

… for about 10 minutes. After that, I realized why the pants were relegated to the side of the closet. They appear to fit, they’re the right length, they look good with lots of different tops and you would think all is well. But no, after this brief honeymoon period they start gapping at the waist in a ridiculous fashion. In a constantly-hiking-up-your-pants, out-of-control-annoying-why-dear-God-am-I-wearing-these-pants kind of way. I mean, I bought them at the Gap, but I didn’t want them to HAVE a gap.

I stand here before you teetering on the brink of pants rage.

Dear Gap Corporation, I have lovingly spent my hard-earned dollars on your clothing nigh these many years, and this is how you repay me. No more! I hereby boycott all your pants.

Love,
Bearca

danger

It’s a gray, drizzly day and I’m working from home this afternoon. I’ve got a cup of mint tea in my hand, I’m wearing fleecy slippers, and there’s a window cleaning guy upstairs cleaning all the windows in my house as I write this. It’s a good day.

But every time I have a service person, furniture delivery man or some other “house call” guy come here when I’m here by myself, I always stress out a little bit. Like, is this guy legit or does he have a weapon in that nondescript white van parked outside? Is he going to incapacitate me somehow and attack me, or even worse, throw me into the back of said nondescript white van? Is it just me? Do any of you have these thoughts when the Sears guy is fixing your dishwasher? I’m probably paranoid because I've been watching too much Criminal Minds. Dang, I love that show. But it’s rather terrifying.

Anyway, I’m pleased to report that this guy seems very nice and totally normal. But if you don’t hear from me for a few days, put out an APB on that van.

look out, PGA tour!

I apologize to my four faithful readers for my extended absence. You know who you are! I have been busy getting botched highlights (seriously, my hair looks hideous), working and raising a toddler who may just be on his way to the PGA. Check it out! I'm all, what up Evan, let's get our golf scholarship on. Anyway, I'll be back soon for reals, I promise. Love ya!

5 questions

Hey! Have you heard about this fun game? My lovely internet friend and fellow lip gloss aficianado, Whoorl, interviewed me by asking the five questions listed below. Want to play? Just leave a comment and I will return the favor. Then, you tell two friends, and they tell two friends, and so on. OK, I made up that last part. But anyway! Here goes.

1) What is the last thing you do before getting into bed at night?
That would have to be slather on lip balm, then pick up a book. Every night, I have to read before I fall asleep. Have to. I am a huge book hound and am happiest when I have a stack of unread books on my nightstand. (So, any recommendations?)

2) What is the most endearing thing Evan is doing right now?
Are you kidding me right now? Pretty much everything he does right now is endearing... well, except the occasional tantrum. Those are definitely the opposite of endearing. However, if I had to pick a current favorite Evan thing, I'd have to go with the bastardized version of the ABC's that he's fond of singing. We call it the 18-letter alphabet and it goes a little something like this:

"ABCs
EFG
HIP
QRS (pronounced "koo are ess")
TV
WXYZ (pronounced "dubba eks why zee")
No more ABCs
Next time won't you sing me."

OK, so I think a little something is lost in the translation here. I will keep trying to get it on video so I can show you because IT IS HILARIOUS. Trust me. The problem is that every time we turn the video camera on nowadays, he freezes up. But let's just say I am particularly proud that he is only two years old and he can sing (most of) the alphabet. Can you say genius?

3) If you had to move to Europe, what country would you live in and why?
Hmmm. I've only been to Germany and England. Of those, I definitely wouldn't pick Germany (don't love the food) and I *might* pick England because I DO love their accents. However, I may just need to make the executive decision to choose Italy sight unseen. Good wine, good food and doesn't George Clooney have a house there? Done.

4) Doughnuts or pancakes?
Both please! Oh, delicious breakfast bready treats, how do I love thee. Although I do have a passionate lust for doughnuts, I think I'll rule in favor of pancakes because they've become a big-time family tradition at our house. My husband makes amazing pancakes from scratch and we have them almost every weekend. They are delicious. But let it be noted that I can't remember ever refusing a doughnut.

5) Who is your favorite artist and/or musician? Why?
That is truly a stumper. I don't know if I could think up a favorite musician but right now I am currently loving the mellow acoustic stylings of Iron and Wine, the Weepies and the like. I also am a big sucker for music that reminds me of fun times past... so I've never been able to get past my love of Toad the Wet Sprocket that originated in college. Oh, and the Indigo Girls. And Guster. Because those are two awesome picks for road trip music. And who doesn't love road trip music? Oh who are we kidding. Like I said, can't pick a favorite.

Allrighty! That concludes today's interviewpalooza. If you would like to join the fun, follow these directions:

1. Leave me a comment saying, “Interview me.”
2. I will respond by emailing you five questions of my choosing.
3. You will update your blog with the answers to the questions.
4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the same post.
5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.

disjointed

So have I spent the last few days improving my blog? Clearly, the answer is no. I may embrace my vanilla flavor for now, at least until a fancy new banner falls out of the sky and lands here at Chez Bearca. Hey, it could happen.

Have I mentioned that my son is turning 2 on Monday? And the fact that we are having a blowout birthday party for him this coming Saturday? And that I’m totally stressed about it because what if I don’t order enough pizza and get enough juice boxes or what if one of the kids falls and gets hurt and I am somehow liable? And did I buy enough paper plates and are the goody bags I am putting together completely lame? These are the thoughts currently running through my head right now. I’m sure once all is said and done, it will be great and fun and whatnot, but right now even obsessive spreadsheet-creating and list-making in true Bearca fashion is not reducing my stress.

Also: I’ve become a Starbucks junkie and my caffeine intake is say, a tad higher than it has been in the past, and it’s just now occurring to me that the caffeine is probably not HELPING my stress level.

And another also: I just made a haircut appointment with a new guy, which I’m very excited about, but it’s not for three and a half weeks and I’m not sure I can stand it. Hello ponytail, nice to see you again. Get comfy, because you’re going to be with me daily for a while.

blogging for dummies

I really want to “re-invent” my blog somehow. Maybe I just need some sort of fancy banner at the top that looks cool. But how do I do that? I have always relied completely on the Blogger templates and they are fine, if a bit vanilla. Not that there is anything wrong with vanilla, but a little dollop of hot fudge always improves things, don’t you think? Also, I think I should add some sort of features like other people have on their blogs. Like an About Me, so people can get to know the real Bearca. Just off the top of my head, here’s how I would characterize myself:

“I am a 33 year old gal living the good life in Southern California. I have a husband, a two-year old son, and a job that sucks up a lot of my time and energy. I love reading, guacamole, Fox TV dramas, cheese and lip gloss, and have recently developed a disturbing fondness for Blue’s Clues and pretzel-flavored Goldfish. I don’t like eating scallops, writing with pencils or dressing up on Halloween.”

Yep, that’s pretty much me in a nutshell. So that’s done. Ha.

But anyway, help me! How do I make my blog less boring?

sick day, the sequel

Home again today! The little guy can't seem to shake this fever, so we're going to have another relaxing day at home together. However, instead of watching the same Baby Einstein video over and over (Baby Noah: oh how I love you and loathe you all at the same time!), I have DVR'd two episodes of Blue's Clues and one episode of Teletubbies. What? Was that me expressing a feeling that watching Teletubbies is an upgrade over Baby Einstein? Desperate times, people. Desperate times.

sick day

I’m home with Evan today. He has a fever and couldn’t go to daycare. He seems okay, definitely a little warm, but he’s in a pretty good mood and still has his traditional ravenous appetite. So I’m not too worried.

It’s just after 8:00 am. We’re in our pajamas watching Blue’s Clues together on the couch, it’s gray and overcast outside, and I’m sipping a hot cup of coffee. And you know? I can’t complain. We could do without the fever, but it’s a pretty good day.

I can’t help but look at him and think that his days wearing these fleecy footed sleepers are limited. I’m going to hold onto them as long as I can.