Oh, Facebook, How I Adore You

It's no secret that I adore Facebook. For so many reasons....I love this method of keeping in touch with people I don't see often. I love the jokes and witty banter between myself and people I do see often. I like being able to share pictures of my son with everyone from my Gram to his nursery school teacher in one shot. I like expressing myself through a "status update."

I've gotten more advice and solved more problems (how to get crayon out of a load of wash, how to potty train a 2 year old, how to deter snakes from the garden--among others) thanks to Facebook. I've given advice to lots of people in areas I know a lot about...photography, pets, babies. I woke up on my birthday to find 20 messages on my wall wishing me Happy Birthday...and the day delivered quite a few more--if you can find the negative in THAT please let me know!!

Without Facebook, I doubt my little photography business would be as successful as it has been. Not only can I share my website and other photos that I take, but a large portion of my "friends" on FB either live where I do, or live in Selinsgrove where my parents do. This is a great amount of exposure.

I like keeping in touch with those close to me who live far away. As someone who doesn't really talk on the phone, I am certain that some of my friendships would have drifted away if not for FB. My girls in Pottstown, my oldest friend in Alaska, Sarah and Natalie in Montana. And of course, there is my sister who lives in North Carolina. I'm not saying we wouldn't still be close but Facebook sure does make it easy! And I can't tell you how much I enjoy reconnecting with someone I never thought I'd see again--an old co-worker or a college friend, for example.

And of course, there is the curiosity aspect. Facebook is a window into other people's lives. I'm not going to lie and say that I don't read people's statuses and check out their pics for the pure sake of being curious. And in many ways it reaffirms what I already know--I have a good life, I have a good family, I have a good kid. But with that in mind, there is the humorous side to knowing so much about everyone's lives, the "OMG I can't believe..." side. Though I definitely don't hold back much of what I put on Facebook, I also don't post things such as the last arguement I had with my husband, woman troubles, or anything that is really personal or will cause drama. It seems unnecessary and in poor taste. But, although I think a lot of people feel this way, clearly not everyone does!!! Here are just a few people who are on my friends list that continue to amaze, shock, and entertain me.

The Serial Poster By serial poster, I don't mean someone who updates their status 2x a day and adds pictures once a week. That would be me, and a lot of other people. By "serial poster" I mean someone who updates their status everytime they do something. Like go to the bathroom. Drive to Taco Bell. Pick up their kid from school. Feed the dog. Typically this person has between 10-20 status updates A DAY. In addition to status updates, they like to add pictures daily. Pictures of their dog sleeping on the floor. Pictures of a bird that landed on the hood of their car. Pictures of their kids doing nothing. Pictures of pictures that have nothing to do with anything, such as a photo-of-a-photo of last years flip-flops. This person posts pictures in albums, on their wall, and on other people's walls. They obviously spend a lot of time scanning old photos from the past, as there are new "oldies" almost every day. This person posts from their phone and computer, and will do a status update while driving, while at the OBGYN, or while waiting in line at the grocery store. One can only wonder who is raising their children, feeding their pets, cleaning their house and you know, going to work for them, since they are obviously on Facebook 20 of 24 hours a day!

The Family that Fights Online...Um, Probably Fights at Home Too This is something that has no end in sight, people who visciously fight with their husbands, wives, parents and children on their Facebook walls. The walls are the public place...anyone who is a "friend" can see what is written. Its a place to write "Happy Birthday" or "Want to meet for lunch?" or "I miss you!" NOT a place to write (to your teenage daughter) "If you don't get your ass home NOW we will be calling the police" and then have your husband chime in with "I've been dealing with your shit for 13 years, I'M DONE. Move out, I don't care" and then have your father chime in "Like you two know anything about raising kids." Or to publicly detail every account of discord between you and your fiance with status updates such as "Since you won't answer your phone, dont be surprised when you come home to boxes all over the house because I'm leaving!" or "My husband is a complete jackass". To me, this kind of stuff is terrible, and its even worse that there is no shame in sharing this kind of stuff with.the.whole.world. On the flip side, its damn good entertainment in the same sense that Jerry Springer and Maury Povich are entertaining.

The Shady Drama Starter This is the kind of person who posts something obvious in an oh-so-subtle way. Something like "Im so freaking mad I could kill someone...you know who you are!" Of course, many of said person's friends will comment with "OMG who are you talking about?" and "Do you need me to get involved? Im here for you!" and the original poster will reply with, "Oh you know who I'm talking about. She's got it coming." Basically its high school bullshit even though the people talking are usually in their 30's. You have to wonder if they REALLY plan to "knock her F***ing teeth out" or if that's just in their fantasies that occur while curled on the couch in PJ's on Facebook!

The Wow, There Really Are People Out There Like That...Think of every stereotype you know of. Imagine it exaggerated. And know that yes, there really, really are people out there who are like that. People who post at 11am "I wanted to sleep in but SOMEONE wanted his cheese doodles" accompanied by a wall photo of a naked baby with a saggy diaper holding a bag of cheese doodles. Or the people who regularly post status updates in terrible, horrible, how-can-you-not-know-this grammar like "Wish my uncle werent coming to help us move...he ain't gonna be no help!" People who make slight prejudicial comments...not outwardly racist or demeaning, but close enough to make you wonder. People who post pictures of themselves going to the bathroom (yep, have seen more than one of those!) People who continuously talk about how their kids make them better, and they try to be good for their kids and in the same day post pictures of themselves doing things that clearly AREN'T good for kids...I could keep going on this one but I'm sure we all have seen a sampling.

The Let's Post Every Single Bad Picture Ever Being a "photographer" I might be biased here. And I will say that looking at other people's pictures is one of my favorite parts of Facebook. BUT...don't post all 245 vacation pictures, including 37 of the ocean. Don't take 19 pictures of your son in his highchair and post...all 19. Why, why, why do people post pictures that are so blurry or out of focus that you can't really tell what they're supposed to be? And in this same category goes the self-portrait kings and queens. Teens are the common culprits, but we'll cut them some slack 'cause, well, they're teenagers! They're supposed to be obsessed with themselves. But I am perplexed at the stay at home mom who has 37 profile pictures of herself making kissy lips in a mirror, all with completely different outfits and hairdos. First off--who has this kind of time? And secondly, I've attempted the self-portrait-with-camera-phone a time or two (usually to send a picture to my mom or sister of a new haircut or new glasses). Its not easy. So my conclusion is that if you are good at taking this kind of picture, you take WAY too many. And finally--those who post drunken pictures of themselves. Not saying that there isn't a photo of my in my albums where I might be intoxicated. Sure there is. But there's no photos of me (in existence, let alone on FB) where Im passed out on the toilet, laying on the ground drooling, or flashing someone. (Side note: I should say no photos in existence since 2000. Or 2006. One of those.) In any event they aren't on FB where everyone from my grandfather to my ex-boss to potential photography clients can view.

The My Life Sucks Poster And finally, a very special kind of poster. I have one particular person in my head, though there are lots of them. Its a girl I know from a few years back, someone who I would not be in touch with were it not for social media, but who I gladly accepted a friendship with in order to reconnect. It was an old co-worker with whom I always got along with and enjoyed her self-deprecating humor. Clearly, I didn't see the real her in person quite as well as I do on Facebook. She posts frequently, and I have never, ever (maybe once or twice, but that's it) seen a positive status update. Im not saying she doesn't have things to complain about, but most of the things she bitches endlessly, tirelessly, and bluntly about are things she could change about her life. I used to comment on her statuses with uplifting words of encouragement, but I no longer do that b/c she shoots every one down. She mostly complains about her terrible, horrible job in retail, and how everyone who is a customer is an asshole, a jerk, and ignorant. She complains about her boss. She complains about the weather pretty much yearround--even gorgeous weather is "not so fun when you're stuck inside all day".

She complains about her living situation. She complains about the fact that there is nothing on television (quite frequently). She complains that Wawa doesn't make good hoagies anymore. She bitches about health and weight issues frequently but when given suggestions or advice or even sympathy she rebuffs it with negativity and excuses.

I guess the thing about this person is that she makes me both sad and thankful at the same time. Sad that her life, her exisitence is completely shrouded in a shitty job, living alone, watching TV and eating as well as complaining about everything under the sun. Thankful that I myself don't have that kind of exisitence. Confident that if I did, I would be able to change things about myself and my life to overcome it.

So, the brilliance of facebook--not just a way to keep in touch, share photos, and promote one's business...but a window into the lives of other people. When you think you have it bad, you really don't. And when you think you have it good, and you want to share that in a status update, there'll be 30 people out there who agree with you in the form of hitting the "like" button.

I Never....

I think pretty much anyone who is a mom, either stay-at-home or working, can attest to the fact that in the days before having a kid you form lots of opinions of the things you will and will not do when you are a parent. Most of these opinions are formed through observation of other people's children...your friends, your family, random obnoxious children in restuarants and grocery stores. And then you have a baby, and then you bring it home. And then it grows up a bit. And suddenly you are doing alllll those terrible things that you swore you'd never do. And you suddenly realize how terribly judgemental you, in your pre-child days, really were.

Because being a parent is crazy-hard, even when its not, if that makes sense. You have to keep them safe and alive, nurture them, listen to advice from everyone from your parents to your friends to the checkout girl at the grocery store. When you sit at home with them, you're not doing enough and when you're out and about you're overwhelming them. When you take time for yourself you feel guilty, but when you don't you feel lonely. When you leave them with grandparents you miss them the second you turn your back, but when you are with them 24-7 for days in a row you dream of "adult time". When they do something bad, you feel like the world's worst parent.

The inspiration for this post came from 2 sources. One--another blog I read had a "top ten" list of "I get it" moments that moms have. Two--this afternoon, I had to pee. As often happens, my little shadow accompanied me. He noted that my pants were down and said "Your pants on the ground, Mom?" A few months ago, there was an American Idol audition that became kind of famous...and old guy singing/rapping a song called "Pants on the Ground" which basically consisted of lyrics like "Pants on the ground, pants on the ground...lookng like a fool with your pants on the ground!"

So what do I do? Grab little Gabey's hands and start dancing (from a sitting position--remember, I'm peeing) and singing "Pants on the Ground". He sang too, and tried to pull his pants down, and we both laughed and then I finished up and we went about our day.

And so, this is my life: singing "Pants on the Ground" with another person, while peeing. Who'd've thunk it? Among the other things I never imagined myself doing....

1. Having a Kid Obsessed with TV. Oh no. Not me! I hate TV! Okay, not really, but I sort of view TV as something you do when there is literally nothing else to do. And, Im a stay-at-home-mom. So of course my kid was going to spend his days doing arts and crafts and playing with Baby Einstein puppets all. day. long. Right??

Maybe for the first year. But then, he started to show an interest in the big beautiful box of entertainment. Then interest became an obsession. I capitalized on this, justifying it as freedom to take a shower, clean the house, Facebook--I mean, pay bills on the computer, uninterupted. And before I knew it my child was addicted to television--anyone who knows him is well aware of this fact. At our recent Dunwoody weekend I heard him no less than 50 times proclaim "I need my TV"...half of the times no one was even listening, he was just talking to himself. How is this possible!!!??? Shouldn't MY kid be out collecting pine cones and making sand art??

2. Having a Kid Addicted to the Binky. I swore I wouldn't use one. And if I did, it would be short lived. And never in public, cause that was...trashy. And then I had Gabe. And I brought him home from the hospital. And I gave him a binky. And he never cried. And he slept really well (as long as he had a binky). And he LOVED his binky. And when the time came, he gave it up without a fuss--rather, it was me shedding a tear over the tattered and cracked pieces of plastic that I was throwing away, along with a chapter of babyhood. Are you kidding me???? Binkies rock.

3. Have a Kid Who Refuses to Eat Real Food. Lindsay, pre child: Finds picky children obnoxious. Why would they not eat the perfectly grilled and marinated steak, seasoned potatoes, and olive-oil dusted green beans my husband slaved over? Why are they instead eating a bowl of MY raisin bran for dinner?? Lindsay, post-child: Gogurt and pretzel sticks for dinner? Covers calcium and carbs, sounds good to me.

My dad recently asked why I didn't "make" little Gabe eat dinner. I advised him to try and "make" him eat dinner next month when they take him to the shore. I'm really excited to hear how this goes. Since the list of food G3 will willingly eat includes: peanut butter sandwiches, smoothies, french fries, yogurt (sometimes) and everything in the cake/cookie/candy food group. Recent attempts to "force" him to eat with us have been utter failures of tears, frustration, and wasted food. Make the kid a separate meal of microwaved nuggets and bread and butter? Everyone's happy.

4. Have a Kid Who Hits. After all, aren't kids who hit the product of families who beat each other? Doesn't a hitting kid indicate a child who has no discipline whatsoever?? Isn't a kid who pushes another kid indicative of a future sociopath?

Let's pause while all parents of toddlers have a good chuckle.

I will say my kid is worse than the average in this department. Why is he like this?? I do not know. As I say to him often "Do I hit you? Do I hit Daddy? Does Daddy hit you? Does Daddy hit me?" (The answer to all those questions is NO, fyi.) Although he watches an abnormal amount of television, its all Dora and Sesame Street and last time I checked Bert wasn't smacking Ernie around. We are working on teaching him that this is wrong, but seeing as my little love is moody and intense, with a temper, its taking a long time to get through to him. He is learning impulse control, slowly. But--pretty much all the kids his age hit and push to some degree. It isn't right, and some of them learn that quicker than others. I've learned to roll with it, punish quickly, and be generous with apologies.

5. I Will Never Have a Kid Who Throws Fits in Public. Again, let's all pause to laugh loud and long at this one.

Ever been to a grocery store where a kid was melting down, screaming, kicking, yelling at his mom, and think to yourself "OMG what a nasty child. MY sweet little angel would never do that." If you've thought this, your sweet little angel either hasn't been conceived yet or is under the age of 4 months. They all do it, and you never, ever know when its coming (even though, of course, its usually your own fault for hauling them out at naptime, or with a fever, or after a strenuous playdate). Yep, there is no greater feeling than trying to soothe a tantruming child that you'd much rather throttle while 500 pairs of judgemental eyes (and probably 20 pairs of sympathetic been-there-done-that eyes) watch you. Don't think it won't happen to you. It will.

6. My Kid Will NOT Eat Fast Food. And when we go out to dinner, he can eat normal food like we do. Um, right. If we go out to dinner, and take Gabey? I'll get him whatever he damn well pleases, whatever keeps him happiest longest. French fries and ice cream?? You got it. Happy kid=happy mom=better parent. That should be a no-brainer, really.

7. Anyone Who Doesn't Breastfeed is Just Lazy. I will still proclaim that I think that breastfeeding is the best for babies. And that it should at least be attempted. And if I ever have another child I will definitely attempt to b.f. But as someone who did this for only 19 days before quitting, I will never, ever view another mom's decision to give up on breastfeeding.

Why, you ask? I think for some moms and babies it comes naturally. A baby with a strong suck reflex and a mom with a good milk supply can usually travel down this path with few, if any problems. For me, the first 6 days were like that. And then it started to hurt. And then little Gabey wouldn't really eat much. And then I tried to pump with a handpump (never, ever attempt this, ITS BRUTAL!!) which yieled next to nothing. And then it was suggested that I supplement him. Which led to an even weaker suck reflex since he was fuller. But the pediatrician was concerned that he was losing weight, so not supplementing was not an option. Many emails were exchanged between me and a lactation consultant named Jill, my mother, and other friends who had successfully breastfed. Of course, they all told me completely different things as there is no one way to make this work. Pumping was encouraged to build up my milk supply, which was dwindling. Pumping only served to help speed along the process of cracked and bleeding boobs. Each time it was time to try and feed G3 again, I would literally dig my nails into my palms to keep from screaming because it hurt so bad.

Then he got thrush, and so did I. Which equals more pain. Still, I perservered until the 19th day, when I sat down to nurse and nothing came out of one side. It was my birthday and the 19th day at home trying to feed an infant from my body. It wasn't working. So I "gave up" and gave him formula. I suffered none of the painful after-effects of stopping breastfeeding, which led me to believe that my milk supply was pitiful to begin with. And G3 immediately started to gain weight, and he was happier, and he slept longer stretches, and now Gabe could help me with the feeding, and I could go out in public without having to run home every two hours (b/c there was no way that I could have managed to b.f. in a public place--it was a major process just to get my bra unhooked.)

So that's what worked for us and anyone who might scoff behind my back and say "Hmmpfh she didn't even try, she only did it for 19 days" can go jump in a lake. My kid grew just fine, he is rarely sick, we bonded plenty, and my poor, poor boobs were saved from a fate of becoming flat and flabby and battered.

I could keep going with variations of these seven things I swore I would never do, and of course have. I'd never let my kid eat meals in the living room. I'd never let him watch extra TV so I could facebook/blog/check the mommy board longer. I'd never have a glass of wine in his presence (hahaha!). I'd never keep him out 3 hours past his bedtime because I was having fun at a friend's house. I'd never feed him candy while shopping to keep him from whining. I'd never put him to bed without a bath, or brushing his teeth, or without a story.

But you know what? He's happy. He's healthy. He's loved. There's 4000 million things you are "supposed" to do...and I figure we're doing about 100 of those so that's ok. We don't let serious offenses go without consequences. He's not malnourished. We don't beat him and lock him in his room for days without food. We rush to aid when he really, really needs us. We'd give him the shirt off our back, our drink, a hug, sit outside with him way longer than we want to just so he can dig in the dirt until he's done. We'll watch a Thomas the Train movie from start to end. We'll hold him in the middle of the night if he wakes up crying.

Really, he's got it made. And so do we.

The Craziness that is July...

As I have mentioned, July is our crazy month. Starting Sunday July 4th and continuing through this past weekend, I have been on the go (and to a lesser extent so has Gabe) pretty much non-stop. We celebrated the 4th with my cousin Erin and her in-laws, my good high school friends Jeanette and Natalie were both home for visits-which prompted several GNOs (girls nights out.) In between that there were multiple concerts for Gabe, a graduation party, doctor's appointments, vet appointments, birthday celebrations for G3, people coming to our house to fix things, and last week we began swim lessons. The craziness tapered off with the annual Dunwoody weekend.

Swim lessons are still going on this week but in the absence of 5000 other things, driving to White Haven each day seems like a piece of cake!! Our little fish has sprouted some fins and gills...he is doing GREAT. He can blow bubbles, get his face wet, and kick with the best of them (though he is reluctant to move his arms). His party trick, however, is dunking underwater. He holds his breath, goes under, and pops back up!!

The lessons are in a friend's lake development, and I am so glad we decided to do them. The instructor is awesome with the kids (anyone who can get up to 9 toddlers to listen while bobbing offshore is a hero in my book!) but also, the kids really are learning to swim!! Its also really nice to hang out with my mom friends while the kids have the lesson, and then afterwards. We've been lucky with the weather--hot and sunny for the most part, and on the cloudy, stormy days we still seem to have escaped class being rained out.

Miss Melissa teaching Gabe, Nathaniel, and Annalise how to blow bubbles...

The end of our madness was the annual Dunwoody weekend. Dunwoody always has a looongg wait of anticipation, followed by the fastest weekend ever. I look forward to it so much every year, as does Gabe, and I think after this year G3 will too. We had a great time this year...it was hotter than any year I can remember--and Dunwoody is generally about 10 degrees cooler than anywhere around it, due to being situated deep in the woods. This year it was high 80's for sure. The kids had a blast playing, though G3 was not the nicest to little Collin, and both of the smaller children were pretty much wiped by Sunday. There was much eating and drinking. A lot of good conversation and companionship. The added element of CeeCee's presence (though not, much to G3's displeasure, Uncle Shawwwwn...)

Saturday is always the best day at Dunwoody...the morning starts off lazily (usually) with the regular attendants bumming around, some of them fishing at Mud Lake, my dad scurrying about like a squirrel in preparation for the arrival of others for the annual cookout. Around noon people start arriving...and this year's arrivals included my sister's high school BFF Shelby and her family...Shelby was a permanent fixture at Dunwoody weekends for many years growing up. We ate, celebrated the birthdays of Aidan and G3 (and I swear, we are done celebrating him now!!) and then the afternoon drifted lazily into evening. People separate into groups, commencing at the dock, or the pavillion, on the porch or among the scattered camping chairs. Wine glasses are full and very, very dirty children slowly start to melt down. We did sparklers this year, which is something I always remember from my Dunwoody years as a kid...though G3 and Collin were probaby too little, seeing as both of them managed to burn their fingers. OOPS.

Should also be noted for posterity that it was a terrible sleeping weekend for G3, though we did learn some things. One--he's totally old enough to know that when I say "Time for bed, everyone else is going to sleep too" I'm completely bullshitting him. Two--in attempt to change the scenery on Friday night around 11pm (while he was still crying and screaming) we moved the pack and play into our room. We have NEVER all slept in the same room, mainly b/c G3 is a light sleeper and G2 is terrible at sneaking into a room--not a good combination. But, it was a success Friday night. Saturday the monkey went down just fine, but he woke up due to an accident in his pack n play. I woke to the sight of Gabe holding G3 under one arm, a giant stuffed otter under the other, and attempting to change the bedding. He had stripped G3 of his jammies but, unable to find new jammies, had dressed him in plaid madras shorts and no undies. I told him to just give me G3, and put him in bed with me. (Gabe and I were in separate beds due to the heat and, you know, we're super romantic like that.) Anyhow-sleeping with G3 sucks!!! He moved alllllllll night long. But, since he's never actually fallen asleep in a bed with me or G2, I guess I'll consider it a win...

Lindsay, Shelby and Kellie...this pic was supposed to include the Dunwoody sign above us but it was cut off and sort of tilted. Possibly the photographer had too much wine. No names will be mentioned (Mom!)

Birthday madness! I've yet to see this level of excitement in an adult but I hope it still exists after age 3!

This is Dunwoody, in a nutshell.

This is a bit out of order, but it should be mentioned that our little July 4th gathering at the home of my cousin's husband's parents was a GREAT day. "Best July 4th ever", Gabe said, and those of you know him know that Gabe is hard to please. (Or, it could have been the Kosteva mojitos talking.) In any event, the day included a lot of swimming, drinking, eating really good food, and great company. There is never enough time for me and Erin, but we take what we can get, and this was a pretty good day. Also in attendance were Erin's mom Nanci and her fiance, and Ken's parents Ed and Jane (the hosts). Super highlight of the day was actually getting a really good picture of me, Erin and our boys--probably the first in the 10 months Max has been in existence!!!

Gonna have to save my tales of girl's nights out, friendships, and summer craziness for another post...things may have slowed down but not enough for me to write endlessly on a Tuesday morning!! I always consider Dunwoody the halfway point of summer...and while I am sad for it to be over, and sad that summer is already halfway gone, I am looking forward to a more relaxing 2nd half of summer--just soaking in the sun and hot air, swimming, late dinners and evenings of wine on the deck. Early mornings by myself with coffee while my little guy sleeps late to rejuvenate himself....dreading the fact that we keep moving closer and closer to the end of summer and the start of my nemesis...WINTER. Thank god fall exists as a buffer!!!

Happy 3rd Birthday Gabey

Dear Gabey: Today you are 3. (Okay, scratch that, you've been 3 for almost a week and we've been celebrating since your little party on July 2nd. Your mommy has been running-around-like-a-chicken-with-no-head-busy, and I just haven't had the time to sit and write this post.) I had visions of waxing poetic about you, writing tender things that will someday make you cry (ok, will someday make you roll your eyes, but will probably make your future wife cry.) But...in the interest of at least leaving SOME mark on this blog that you turned 3, I am squeezing this post in between waking up and rushing you off to swimming lessons.

That's right, swimming lessons. Among the other big-kid like things you are doing at age 3, you are also learning how to swim. Daddy has been teaching you a few tricks like holding your breath to be dunked underwater (sounds violent but you love it!) but these are lessons designed to keep you from drowning, and I have to say after just 2 days I am so impressed with how you have learned to blow bubbles, put your face in the water, and kick with your kick-board. Mostly I'm impressed that you actually can handle sitting and listening and following instructions from a teach, with 9 other kids in the water. You do stray at the end, but not too long ago the idea of you listening for nearly 45 minutes was unheard of.

I wanted to write about the kind of person you are, though I do talk about that in your monthly posts, I can't seem to formulate the words from my head onto this blog. I blame this purely on the fact that I have not had a minute to just sit and chill over the month of July, and collect my thoughts about you. I remember when I was pregnant thinking about the fact that "someday there will be a little boy running up and down these hallways" and totally NOT being excited about that. I was excited for a baby, a snuggly ball of mush that I could carry around all day and play with. Toddlers didn't excite me. Big kids=even less. I wanted the baby, and decided that I'd just ignore the fact that someday he wouldn't be a baby anymore.

Of course, that's not how it works, and each age you are at comes with its own challeges and its own rewards. There are so many things I love about you right now, today, at age 3 years and 6 days. I love how some mornings you get up before Daddy and you run into our room and he pulls you up onto the bed and for a short time you just lay on top of him while he rubs your back. I don't think Daddy is all that awake, but you are, and I think that maybe you are old enough that you will remember it. Not completely, but maybe just a memory of early summer mornings, lounging in bed, playing under the blankets while Mom and Dad wake up, and then jumping over Daddy repeatedly, calling him a mountain.

I wonder if you will remember the afternoons when we all happen to be home, when you and Daddy swim in the kiddie pool and I sit nearby reading or just hanging out. Will you remember Mickey, and your love/hate relationship with him? Will you remember how I snuggle you for 2 seconds each night and ask you what your favorite part of the day was, and talk about all the exciting things to come the next day?

I hope that your earliest memories that you remember throughout your life will be ones of warmth, happieness, and fun. Of course, Daddy and I are not perfect and there are lots of days that you eat garbage for dinner, or we have an argument in front of you, or we put you to bed without reading a story, or let you watch too much television because we have to get some things done. But there are many days that are full of snuggling, playing in the yard, "family days" which can range from an afternoon at the pool to just laying around watching movies.

I get scared when I think of you growing up...entering the big bad scary world of mean kids and all kinds of horrible dangers. I try not to dwell on this much, but as a mom I think there is always this scary fear in the closets of your mind of something happening to your kid. Once in awhile it jumps out and its so bad that you have to put it away or otherwise it would strangle you. At age 3, you are more or less with me always, minus the times you are with Daddy, at Grammy and Grandad's, school or once in a blue moon with friends. Its easy to keep you safe. As you grow, keeping you safe will be more about guiding you to make the right choices, instilling values in you that will help you be a good person and move down the right path in life, and just letting you know that no matter what, your mom and dad love you fiercely and will always be here for whatever you need. You aren't a baby anymore, not even close, but I'm not sure I will ever be able to look at you or touch you and not have some fleeting sense of baby fat, of innocence, of YOU as you are now.

My earliest memory is of my 3rd birthday...something about walking between my parents holding both of their hands, and getting a clown doll named Clara as a present. So I figure that the earliest things you might remember are of your 3rd birthday, and damn, did we do it up this year. First, we had a playdate party the week before. All your little friends came, the weather was gorgeous, and you totally enjoyed yourself. For your actual birthday, we did the (cup)cake and presents when Daddy got home from work, and then we took you out to dinner and let you order whatever you wanted (buttered noodles, french fries, and ice cream!) I took you shopping at Toys R Us and let you pick out a present to spend some of your birthday money on, and you got a crown and a balloon. Because we didn't have a huge party, you've been randomly getting gifts and cards in the mail from various family members, which is only alluding to the impression you must have that a birthday is a month long party! Finally, we are going to have a cake up at Dunwoody for you and Aidan (another little boy who's birthday is in July) and you will have MORE presents from Mommy's side of the family. Best of all Aunt CeeCee will get to be with you to blow out the candles and partake in some birthday madness.

So, birthdays are totally not about the cake and presents (ok, they sort of are) but more about celebrating YOU, making the day (err, month) special for you, especially now that you are old enough to really enjoy and kind of understand what its all about. Of course, I want you to know every day how special you are and how much we love you, but no day more than your birthday. Three years ago everything changed for Daddy and I in ways we couldn't imagine. You are such a special little person and sometimes I can't even believe you are ours. We both love you beyond words, Gabey. Happy Birthday!

Lindsay Rotten Tooth and Gabey's First Trip to the Dentist

Once upon a time, I went through a phase where I skipped dental care for about 7 years. My reasons were valid--I was young, I'd never had a cavity (probably because I'd religiously been sent to the dentist my entire childhood), and the most important, I couldn't afford such a luxury. I was fresh out of college, working in a relatively low-paying job, and I had bills to pay (not to mention a drinking habit to support.) Dental care? That was for people like my dad, who owned a water pick.

Then I got married, suddenly had dental insurance (which is a joke anymore, but I digress) and decided to be a grown-up and, you know, go to the dentist. I was pleasantly surprised to find that I immediately LOVED my dentist's office: to the point that I base all future new doctors on them--for example, I shopped around for pedatricians until I found one that gave me the warm and fuzzy feeling that Dr. Pelly and her assistant husband do. Unfortunately, no amount of warm and fuzzy words could cover the grim truth that I had FIVE cavities. FIVE, all in my molars. Gabe, who had also just gone to the dentist for the first time in years, thought this was pretty funny as he had none.

What transpired was five consecutive weeks of going to the dentist each Thursday to get a cavity filled. The first time I was so nervous and shaking and ready to pass out at the sight of the needle that Dr. Pelly needed to verbally assure me multiple times before she began. By the 5th time we were all old chums, sharing vacation photos and travel stories, and I had a new outlook on dental care: I now flossed regularly and I paid the office a visit religiously every 6 months. My family, of course, found all this to be hysterical, and have referred to me as "Lindsay Rotten Tooth" ever since.

Fast-forward to yesterday...Gabey's very first trip to the dentist. I've tried to instill good oral habit in him: we brush 2x daily. We've been working with "real" toothpaste vs. baby toothpaste, but the spitting efforts are a little wild, so like I said, we're working on it. I actually had to go to the dentist myself, and after much failed effort to find someone to come along with me to watch G3 so he could see for himself what it was all about, I ended up just adding his check-up to the end of my visit, packing a bag full of toys, and hoping for the best.

My little man did not disapoint. He played on the floor next to my chair for a good 40 minutes while I had my teeth cleaned, interupting his play only to ask the assistant "Is it my turn? You gonna brush my teeth?" He charmed everyone in the office and made me proud of his behavior (sidenote: the last time I took him to the dentist with me he was about a year old, and cried the ENTIRE TIME. Horrible experience.) Anyhow, when it was his turn he hopped right into the chair, no hesitation, and was pretty damn good about letting Dr. Pelly check his teeth and count them. After that, he was thrilled to follow her husband up front and pick a toy out of the toy chest.

He really did open his mouth for her, I just happened to click at the 1 point he closed it.

And that was that. First dentist visit over and done with. Of course, it may be different when they actually clean them (the first visit is just checking for any obvious problems and getting them used to it.) Another bi-annual $88 to add to our bills. Another milestone in G3's life. And, with any luck he will not follow in the path of Lindsay Rotten Tooth!

Completely unrelated photo: it's lily season!! The lilies are blooming, which means its my favorite time of the year (in case you didn't pick up on that!) As usual, Gabe has taken hundreds of pictures of every single lily, but to avoid anyone keeling over from too much excitement, I've decided to share just one. Happy Summer!

Night at the Northeast Fair (oh, and Barnes n Noble too)

We decided to kick off Father's Day weekend with a trip to the Northeast Fair. We weren't sure whether to expect a huge fair like the Bloomsburg Fair, or a dinky carnival like the Freeburg Carnival (those of you who've been to both can understand the wide divide...)

The Northeast Fair was your basic carnival, with a few fun extras thrown in (like, pig racing--we can now check "attend pig race" off of our bucket lists!) Rides, games, carnival/fair food, a petting zoo, and barns full of exhibits made up the Northeast Fair.

A few observations. A carnival is a carnival is a carnival, of course--same food stands, same rides, same games. Also a special brand of People Watching that deserves its own category. After paying the $8 admission we first headed into the Horticulture Building to check out flowers and plants despite the small voice in the stroller saying, "Mommy. I wanna go out THERE!" (Yes I realize I just aged with that sentence. OMG.) There WAS a pretty neat butterfly exhibit and bee hive in there though...okay, add another 5 years on. God we are getting old!

Anyhow, it was fun to take Gabey to things like this when he was 1...just watching him take in all the new sights, sounds, smells and tastes for the first time. When he was 2...not so much. Too little for rides, incapable of walking next to us, fighting the idea of riding in the stroller, didn't understand games, etc etc. But 3?? GREAT age. Yes, he was too little for most of the rides but not all of them. And he was the perfect age for playing games with a little assistance from Dad. The games cost a fortune anymore, but they are garunteed a prize (insert rolling eyes here) so Gabey walked away with a stuffed lion and a blow-up guitar taller than him. Nothing better than the excitement in his face when the bell above him rang and the toothless carnie called out "You're the winner!"

Other highlights included the pig races (which Gabey was enamored with, oddly enough. It was pretty much the most unexciting race I've ever seen. But he was talking about the pigs and the numbers on their backs and which one our section of the crowd was rooting for til he went to bed tonight).

We decided to hit Barnes & Noble on the way home. I love that place. However, I can't really enjoy it in the way I want to, which would be browsing for 2 hours with nothing else to do and no one to tend to. Above mentioned almost-three year old prohibits this. But the next best thing is going as a family, and one of us hangs at the train table with G3 while the other browses. I am proud to say this is the 2nd trip in a few weeks that G3 behaved himself, above and beyond just being good. He listened, stuck to the plan of "We'll eat, then play at the train table, then pick out a dino book and leave" (since previous trips have ended badly at the point of leaving the train table--picture the literal "carry him kicking and screaming" visual...)

I also watched him be quite kind to another boy. The other boy had Down Syndrome and was edging into G3's space and taking trains...I don't think he was deliberately doing anything naughty at all, but G3 wouldn't know the difference. I was proud that he not only moved aside, rather than pushing or getting upset (default reaction these days) and not only that, he handed several trains to the little boy. He's had several incidents like this (being kind, or stopping and thinking before his reaction and instead using words)...these actions deserve recognition but I may save them for later.

All in all summer is off to a good start. We have lots to look forward to...birthdays, Dunwoody, playdates, campfires, concerts and various visits with friends and family. Oh, and swimming lessons...and swimming! I'll end on that note with a cute picture: my good friend Jen recently got a pool, and G3 and I stopped over to check it out the other day (aka invited ourselves over to swim:) G3 and the Madster are quite the little water bugs!

Banner Weekend

There are some weekends where you are so on-the-go that you almost don't get to enjoy all the things that you're trying to fit in. The weekend ends with a feeling of tired disorganization, and often lots to take care of before the very next day. The week ahead seems daunting and you wish you could rewind to Friday night and do it all again, only pay attention a little better. Last weekend was kind of like that...multiple parties and gatherings, travel, a photo shoot.

Then there are the weekends of nothing to do. Weekends when the weather isn't cooperative, no one is having people over or even around to be invited over. Nothing to do (these weekends often occur in the winter.) At first, the prospect of 2 full days of lazing about sounds refreshing--watching movies, maybe some window shopping, reading. But by Saturday afternoon one or both of us is usually bored out of our skull and the idea of using such free time productively is out the window due to the lack of motivation that usually accompanies said weekend. By Sunday night you're either eagerly awaiting Monday (yet unable to fall asleep b/c you're so ridiculously NOT tired from the weekend) or feeling bummed that the weekend is over and you didn't really do anything.

And then there are the weekends that are a perfect balance of the previous two. Weekends with downtime that is full of anticipation of what's to come. Weekends with monumental events that are both simple and powerful. Weekends of friends, campfires, wine, a little bit of off-the-beaten-path and a lot of the comforts of home. Weekends that end with a feeling of combined exhaustion and happieness. Weekends that you mourn just a little because--while they didn't go by too fast, they did go fast.

This was such a weekend. Friday night began with G3's Little Thinkers Graduation Program. What can be said about this?? It was both laugh-out-loud funny and at times made you want to shed a tear. G3 and his class performed 3 little songs and I have to say, our little guy was pretty damn funny. I had no clue how Miss Debbie was going to get 5 kids at or under the age of 3 to sing together, and I sort of had a mental image of how it would go. I pretty much pictured G3 either (a) making sound effects and doing acrobatics or (b) just running around like a maniac. I wasn't TOO far off...the concept of standing still in a line for more than 3 seconds is just...not possible for him. BUT he was the first one to sing and Miss Debbie later told me "I think he led the class!" because after that the others joined in sporadically. He was performing, but he was also totally oblivious to the fact of 75 other people zeroed in on him. I was so proud of him for being so confident (or oblivious, same thing:), for listening to Miss Debi, for not crying or being scared or being disobedient. Yes, he was doing superhero poses and gymnastics while singing...but it was pretty funny.

Debut Performance

G3 and Daddy

G3, Ben and Maddie

G3 and Mommy

Saturday was spent errand running, doing yardwork, napping and cleaning in preparation for our 2nd Annual Fire on the Mountain party. You know me, I love traditions, and this gathering was to celebrate Jeanette's yearly pilgramage home from Alaska. Ray and Nancy also come up, and this year a few others were over for the night as well. This year commenced much as last year had with a good dinner, wine, a rainstorm (you didn't really think I'd have a party without rain/snow present, did you?), a campfire, wine, shenanigans and late night silliness that included a photoshoot (on the rocks where the snakes live...nothing like a little vodka to bring out the bravery!) and talking in the wee hours of the morning, feet soaking in the kiddie pool. The night encompassed all of my favorite things: summer, heat, old friends, fires, being a hostess, being outside, girl time, laughing so hard you can't breathe. Jeanette is one of my oldest friends and honest to God, hanging out with her at age 13 and age 30 (ok 31) is practically the same except for the inclusion of alcohol. (Oh, wait. Hmmm. No, we were at least 15 before we were sipping SoCo in the Freeburg dugout in broad daylight...)

I suppose one of these days we will mature and grow up....

...nah, what fun would that be?

Anyhow, Sunday dawned as many a post-party day does...with remnants of a night gone by such as pizza flung on the floor, cups littering the patio, a bunch of unknown (and hysterical) pictures to be poured over, coffee and ibuprofen, leftover party food for breakfast. Lofty goals from the night before (namely, Nancy just...not going home with Ray at 6am for a bike race and attending the local wine festival) were abandoned in favor of lazing about, drinking coffee and talking. Our visit with Jeanette wound down to lunch out and a random stop to a flea market where Gabe purchased a gardening book and Jeanette treated me to a deck of Tarot cards. (Side note: Have always wanted to learn how to read them...stay tuned for more updates on my newfound skills!)

Until we meet again (hopefully in a few weeks!)

After Jeanette left we did a little swimming on the patio with the little one, then when the rain came (again!) we lounged inside in the AC for the rest of the afternoon and evening. The weekend was capped off with the season premier of True Blood, and let's face it--there aren't many shows that Gabe and I both truly enjoy, and this is one of them.

All in all...a banner weekend.

Happy 35 Months G3

I've been putting off writing this post because *drumroll please* it is my last post to you, Gabey, as a 2 year old. Just not really ready to accept that...

Last photos of G3 as a two year old...

I'm not sure where the line gets crossed between toddler and preschooler...but I think there must be some sort of definitive jump between 2 and 3. Last year you celebrated your birthday in diapers, with a binky, and spoke in halting, deliberate phrases to get your point across. This year you'll be sporting undies, the binky is long gone, and you can more or less carry on a full conversation. That's quite a few more things than either your father or I have accomplished in the past year! Well done Gabey!

As for this month, it's been a whirlwind 30 days (when is it ever not, though?) Between our trip to the beach, visits to Grammy and Grandad on the weekends, friends visiting, parties, family events and then throw in the usual week-to-week stuff like school, playdates, yardwork and more and we've barely had time to come up for air. Despite your very rigid personality, you do fairly well going with the flow, as long as we give you lots of heads up! Sometimes, of course, we give you a little bit TOO much of a warning.

Last weekend, for example, we went to my cousin Ian's graduation party. Ian is like the little kid version of the dog whisperer, and after spending an evening fishing at the pond with him you are officially over the moon about him. We told you the night before that we would be going to Ian's graduation party, and you literally talked of nothing until hours later the next day when it was finally time to go. You went to bed dreaming of Ian and cake and woke up that morning telling me you needed to pack your fork so you could eat cake with Ian.

Eating has been a challenge this month. A challenge as in, you don't eat!!!! Seriously, you are the world's pickiest eater ever, and you get this hands down from your father!! Recently both of us became fed up with making you a separate meal for dinner. We did this in part b/c I used to feed you before us (b/c we tend to eat rather late) but I think you are old enough now to hang on til 6:30 or 7. Daddy hates wasting food and I was starting to think that giving you a separate entree was only fueling your pickiness. We decided from now on you are eating what we eat, within reason. No, I don't expect you to eat a medium rare steak with blue cheese (but good God if you would just TRY it!!!) But there is no reason you can't eat chicken, vegetables, salad, baked potatoes, breakfast for dinner, pork tenderloin, eggs, coleslaw, or any of the other millions of foods we've put in front of you over the last two weeks.

Your standard response is to push your plate (violently) away, declare it "yuck" and tell us adamantly "I don't WANT it. It's YUCK! I say NO WAY!" You have thrown forks and spit on your plate to further illustrate your point. Involuntary dry heaving at the sight of a new food is common. We have tried to cajole you by telling you that you don't have to actually eat it, but for the love of God JUST FREAKING TRY IT!! We have bribed with brownies and ice cream (fail.) I do try to make sure that there is something on the table that you like but you also have taken to chewing up a former favorite food (like bread or cantelope) and then spitting the chewed wad out, and refusing to eat said food any longer. So, I'm really a bit discouraged that you are going to be one of those weird kids who only eats white foods or who lives on hot dogs and has a sallow skin color from lack of nutrition. The hard part of this is the nights when you actually ARE very hungry, and your anger and dramatics gives way to crocodile tears, a quivering lip, and seriously pathetic pleas of "Pleeease mommy? I'm hungry! I can't eat that, I can't. Please mom? Bread and butter? PLEEEAAASSEEEEEE!"

Rare archive of G3 eating food...at dinnertime...from a plate!

We've been spending a lot of time at Grammy and Grandad's, as is par for the course in the summer. You love going here of course, and summertime offers a lot of fun things that you didn't get to do so much last year because, well, you were TWO. Now you are almost three, and you can run to the pond, throw the ball for Mickey, fill buckets and dig holes. You can ride on the tractor with Grandad and help him check muskrat traps and look for turtles. You help water the garden and go into the grainery in the barn to check the kestrel nest. You sleep hard and long at Grammy's house!!!

A boy and his dog...

The final notation of the month is that this week you had your very last day of Nursery School!! School has been so much fun for you--you love going and next year you will continue, probably for a longer period of time and possibly more days. You will keep going to Miss Debi on Tuesdays in the summer for an hour (since I attend a workout class during that time)...it won't be "school" but knowing Miss Debi you will immersed into all kinds of new things! This Friday is your little "graduation" ceremony, and I am looking forward to seeing how Miss Debi plans to get 5 two-year olds to perform for a crowd! And of course, take lots and lots of pictures!

Miss Debi and your class...Jacob (he's so shy!!), Theresa, G3, Maddie and Ben

First day of school...September 2009

Last day of school...June 8th 2010

The coming month(s) will bring lots to blog about, so stay tuned! As usual, July is an insane whirlwind for us between birthdays, Dunwoody, summer concerts and more. I have your birthday weekend all planned out in my head and I can't wait to execute it. We are not a big "party" family...I personally find kids' birthday parties to be stressful (at this age anyhow), overdone, and usually involve inviting people that you don't really see on a regular basis anyhow. Last year I had a playdate party with your playgroup during the week, and it was great. I plan to do this again this year. We will probably celebrate with Grammy and Grandad (etc) at Dunwoody, and I also hope to arrange to take you see the monster truck show in Bloomsburg, which so happens to fall in your birthday weekend!! I have always been a fan of birthdays, and I feel that they should be special days of celebrating YOU and what YOU love.

Life with a 3 year old...the countdown begins....

Snakes on a Mountain

There are a lot of things that I really, really, in my heart of hearts, LOVE about my home.

Snakes? Not one of them.

The first summer we didn't see any, or rather, I didn't see any. But seeing as I spent June 9 months pregnant and July and August taking care of a newborn, I wasn't exactly outside trudging through snake territory.

The second summer, for some reason, I'm drawing a blank on...Gabe was 1...we weren't "quite" as into gardening as we have been lately...but I definitely don't recall snakes.

Summer 3--6 snakes. One in the woods, one in the grass--no biggie. One sleeping on the top of the cement of the septic tank; a little creepy but it wasn't a close encounter. Two slithering over my feet as I stepped outside in the morning, barefoot and weilding scissors to innocently cut some flowers? Very, very uncool. One of the most hideous experiences of my life. Finally, a snake found dead in the driveway, flush with the garage...which we discovered, when Gabe tried to remove it, that half of its body was IN THE STONE of the garage, which in my mind, counts as the house. All of these sightings happened between April and August.

And now, our fourth summer. Its still May (granted, a hot May) and I've already seen two snakes. It is so not agreeing with me. Last year, I spent a good amount of time online, reading about snakes, becoming educated (these are all harmless snakes) trying to make myself less afraid but regardless I spent most of my summer weeding and simultaneously jumping out of my skin everytime anything moved, sure it was a snake about to bite and strangle me.

I know all the good things about snakes. I know they aren't going to "get" me (in my head). But I can't explain the feeling of walking around my house with my heart in my throat in my blood pumping, waiting, just waiting to see one. And today it was out of my mind for a second and what do you know, I headed toward the walkway that connects the deck and the patio and there it was. Snake. Brown and slithery...slithering away, yes, but slithering. And I can't quite explain the feeling of innate creepiness, and yes, fear, that overcomes me. I understand where the term "crawling out of my skin" comes from. And then my hands start shaking, heart starts pumping, expletives start flying, dog's hair stands on end and the toddler asks in a shaky voice "Mommy? You okay?"

I've always been like this...pretty sure there is a video floating around Pinto Bay somewhere of my dad showing us a dead black snake (pretty sure HE had killed it!) and the body was still moving. My sister, the future doctor, was all squatted over it and probably secretly wanted to dissect it and I? I was running away screaming and bellowing like a primal caveperson. And Gabe can attest, since he witnessed my discovery of snake number 1 about a week ago, that age has not really altered this reaction.

So what to do? There are lots of "methods" of repelling snakes (sounds like most don't work), you can trap and remove them (would involve closer interaction--no thank you), you can hire a wildlife removal service (very expensive and lets face it--they would take one look at our property, in the woods, with lots of greens to hide under and lots of rocks to sunbathe on, and probably laugh at us), or we could move--that's a bit drastic.

I might try the mothball trick but more than likely I will just continue to live with it and freak out and bitch about snakes on my facebook status (hopefully this is not going to be a once a week thing!!!) I honestly don't care if they are here, as long as I don't SEE them. I can be cautious and respectful...but shit, every time I see one I am afraid to go back outside and then spend the next few weeks being anxious everytime I am anywhere off the deck or patio.

And on a day like today, and with summer looming...I WANT to be outside all the time! I love my house, and my plants, and the woods and the view and summertime...I love the smells of the woods, the way everything looks and feels totally different in the early morning and in the evening just before dark. I like being under the sun, I like hot weather, I like coming inside to a cool house for a break now and then. I like "swimming" and pop-ice with the little guy...but in order to enjoy all of THAT, there is a lot of work that needs to be done on a regular basis. And I don't mind that work, I just wish that snakes weren't involved.

You know what I secretly think (and yes this is my snake paranoia): I think that we live on top of a huge nest of freaking snakes, just waiting to attack. Skeeves me out, but (and here's the but): tonight I stood on the deck for a few minutes and watched a fantastic lightening storm going on about 5 miles away. A hummingbird stopped it's flight and sat on the railing, something I've never seen before. The air smelled like rain and remnants of G3's play were scattered at my feet. I could LIVE outside...except for the damn snakes on the mountain!!!!!

Summer Bucket List

One of my favorite blogs to read is one I recently became acquainted with, Enjoying The Small Things...it's one of those personal blogs that has sort of become famous--the blogger, Kelle, recently gave birth to a daughter with Down's Sydrome and somehow her story has captured the eyes of a lot of people. Its not just her journey as a young mom with a 3 year old and a special needs newborn...in fact it's not that at all.

Its the way she writes, the way she views her life, the photographs she takes and her sheer ability to grasp everything and make it great. She took something that would have shooken most of us--the unexpected challenge of a child with Down's Syndrome--shook it off and embraced it. Anyhow, I read her blog for many reasons. Its uplifting--sure she's a little schmaltzy and you have to wonder sometimes if she is REALLY as happy and in love with life as she comes off as. Because she's not just a "glass is half full" person...she's a "glass is running over with bubbly champagne and she's still pouring" kind of person.

The other reason I love her blog is the photographs she takes. At least 10-20 photos per post, and her kids are so beautiful that you don't mind seeing 18 shots of them in the same outfits. Her photographs are stunning, and I love that she photographs EVERYTHING. It inspires me as both a mom and a photographer.

She had a recent post about the start of summer, complete with a list of things she wants to do this summer, and I thought I'd make my own list. Some of these things are "for sure" things and some are just "I hope I can squeeze that in" and some are probably even "pipe dreams" but I'm way more likely to do something if I put it on a list, so you never know...

1. Have at least one really good summer party, complete with a "fire on the mountain" evening

2. Hit Knobels with my playgroup

3. Teach G3 to swim since my friend Jen has kindly decided to get a pool:)

4. Go to Ricketts Glen. Haven't been there in years, and its pretty close, but not really suitable hiking with a toddler.

5. Repeat of Girl's Night Out with Jeanette and Nancy

6. Dunwoody

7. Take advantage of the 3-4 days my parents are taking G3 to the beach to go on a trip somewhere with my husband.

8. Take G3 to the Philadelphia Zoo...or the Bronx Zoo...or SOMEWHERE with a big zoo.

9. Utilize my deck to sit outside in the evenings more.

10. Line up lots of photography shoots since this is prime time to utilize natural light!