Happy Christmas to all.

See you in 2011.


His point of view

This what it looked like, for him. For my little man who had to go to the ER today because his forehead decided to say hello to a brick patio and the metal car he happened to have in his hand, right at that very moment.

This is what it looked like, for him.

I don't always get to see what the world looks like for him. Actually, I rarely do. Sometimes when I end up on my hands and knees reaching for the ball that landed in the corner under the comfy chair, I catch a glimpse of his world: how tall everything seems. How the counter top feels like Mount Everest. How the refrigerator feels like the Empire State Building. How the sink feels like the Grand Canyon.

But today, this unexpected glimpse caught me off guard.

I was flipping through the pictures I took of the gash on his forehead and found this image - probably taken while he was allowed to flip through episodes of Thomas and a few key clips from Mary Poppins while we waited for the numbing ointment to take affect.

This image stopped me in my tracks.

It stopped the what-do-I-say-to-the-mom-whose-daughter caused the gash because saying "Eva don't push" isn't really working so well. It stopped all the have-to-get-this-done before the in-laws arrive tomorrow. It stopped all the frantic need to-do-ness before the end of the year is up. It stopped the brave and together mom routine that made everyone in the ER comment on how calm I was - seeing that this was my first, his first, and so on. It just stopped everything.

And I stopped and cried.


Man purse

I can't help it. This one, I just had to share.


Tired, again

I know, old story. I'm tired, you're tired, everyone is tired. So why the hell write about it again.

Because, it's the tired of motherhood. The tired that is different from the tired of corporate work or restaurant work or hospital work or entrepreneurial work. The tired that creeps into your veins from the endless yowling to do the exact opposite thing you want to be doing. The tired that seeps into your brain after tirelessly (no pun intended) repeating every request, desire, command and demand over and over and over again to a non-rational, big blue eyed little human. The tired that hits you right smack dab in the middle of the forehead while you are reading Goodnight Gorilla and makes you realize that all those things you were hoping to get done as soon as he fell asleep, would like yesterday, and probably tomorrow, stay not done.

But today, it's the tired that you get from tossing and turning restlessly until 1:30am, agitated by the tumultuous storm that reeked havoc on the neighborhood streets and it's partner in crime, the tornado that reeked havoc in my head. That tired, plus toddler tired, just kicked my ass.

Mostly, I don't want to accept that 24 pounds of toddler can take me out the way that they do. But they do, like no other work i have ever done in my entire life.

I don't want him to be any different than he is: no less inquisitive, no less clever, no less determined, no less certain, no less compassionate, no less loving, no less resolute, no less giddy about cho chos.

So, I am just going to let myself be tired. And go to bed at 8:25. And figure out a way to be less tired and more there, when it all starts again tomorrow.


Do you know Kickstarter?

Well do you? Because I didn't until yesterday. But that doesn't mean anything, since I am ever so delayed these days in what is cool, hip and rely on my younger brothers to keep me in the loop.

I won't ramble too long - the link speaks for itself.

So if you want to support a small, local business or you want to support young people or you want to support creativity or you want to support my brother or you just love this idea, support this project.

Because we all need a little help from our friends, at some point