Ikebananas

Last week I took an Ikebana workshop with my husband and mother-in-law through our county park system. Ikebana is a Japanese art of flower arrangement. I still couldn't tell you much about it, but Wikipedia does a great job. 

It was held at our favorite park, Deep Cut Gardens, and I think I signed up for it because I was hoping it would take place in their magical greenhouse (it wasn't). But I find floral arrangements to be one of the great pleasures of life, along with watching a baby nap, sheet cake that's better than it needs to be, falling asleep on the couch, and The Met. Plus, I'm always looking to add to my bag o' tricks.

Once we arrived, I was excited to learn a different approach to flower arrangement that uses materials, shapes, and proportions uncommon to the Western style. All my arrangements tend to look the same. I do a lot of round stuff with one kind of flower. Any time I diverge from that, it gets awkward. 

We each made an arrangement, and mine was OK. To be honest, I'm not sure I know good or bad yet, it's so foreign to my eye. I'm not a natural minimalist, and I didn't think my materials vibed together all that well. I wasn't sure if I'd do it again by the book, but I was inspired to try again with plant materials from our yard.

So today, after Mother's Day brunch, the babe was napping, the mister was mowing the lawn, and Pip and were looking for something to do to pass the time until our next meal. (Why not put it bluntly.) She came with us to the Ikebana workshop and was eager to try her hand at making her own arrangement. We took clippers outside and found a ton of good stuff to use. 

I gave her a traditional vase and I used a wide, shallow bowl more typical of Moribana (the style of Ikebana we "learned" -- that's a stretch). We had two colors of Japanese maples, azaleas, lilacs, and Japonica. There are a lot of specifics to the proper placement and geometry of the branches in Ikebana (refer to our handout up top), but I despise following instructions in all circumstances except when giving my children medicine, so we wung it. Basically: tall thing, slightly less tall thing, wide thing out to side, something protruding toward you, something heavy down low to anchor it. This is probably blasphemy but I find it works.

Mama Ikebana

Pip took a more maximalist approach and made the most beautiful arrangement I've ever seen (I'm not exaggerating because I'm her mom). I'm telling you, you'd have to pay $130 in Brooklyn for this thing. It is hauntingly beautiful, and all from found clippings in our yard. I would have been hard-pressed to summon the freedom to make something so luscious and exuberant and great.

Pippa Ikebana

It's something I've noticed whenever she paints too -- she has an innate understanding of beauty. It's direct, it's colorful, it's free, and she knows exactly when to stop. Picasso said, "Every child is an artist. The problem is how to remain an artist once you grow up." Kids. You learn something from them every day, if you pay attention.

...

On a side note, the babe is ten months today! She has her bottom right front tooth, and all the others seem to be just below the surface. She loves to eat real food (clementines! ricotta! meatballs! banana!). She isn't quite crawling forward yet, though she just figured out how to get over her other leg, and she loves to do "So big!" and clap for herself. She says "da da" all the time, and yesterday she said "Pippa" (we both heard it). So far she has no interest in saying "Mama" -- not even for Mother's day.

Deep Thoughts From The Porch

We have a book called "What A Seed Needs" about a pig who is also a farmer. He plants a few different kinds of seeds and the book walks you through all the things that are required for a seed to grow into a flower, vegetable, what have you. Sun, a place in the dirt, water, time, and a little love and care. 

But did you ever really think about it? How amazing it is to plant a little tiny spec of something in the dirt and then get bushels of tomatoes, or hundreds and hundreds of flowers? I have been sitting out on our porch overlooking our gardens and find myself awestruck this summer. Almost every day for the last two weeks I have been harvesting a pint of sweet orange cherry tomatoes and picking a bouquet of zinnias. Sometimes for us, sometimes for neighbors and friends.

 As I nurse our little baby, who similarly came from two specs and grew into the most lovable and spectacular little person, I can't quite believe how long I've been taking the miracle of life for granted. I mean seriously, have you ever really stopped to contemplate how things grow?! Is this why people love science?! Amazing. 

First Fortnight

We've been a family of four for two weeks today. She is a happy newborn: she loves eating, sleeping, pooping. She gets the hiccups at least once a day. In natural light her hair has a reddish, auburn tint. Excited to see how that develops. We have redheads in my family but only on the side that I'm not actually blood related to. She has my color eyes and looks a lot like her big sister did as a baby, except she has less prominent lips. 

She immediately took to breastfeeding (like moments after she was born), and she loves to fall asleep snuggled up next to me. Breastfeeding is so special, but it does get exhausting. It's a lot to know that you are THE food source for this precious new creature  you love so much. Everyone wants to help but they can only do so much. Really I don't mind it, only when I she's in the middle of a feeding frenzy and I want to eat, or I've just fallen asleep, or we are out and about and not in a time and space where halting everything and plopping down to breastfeed is an option. But all in all I can't really complain. My mental plan is to breastfeed for 6 weeks and then take each week as it comes. I will be going back to work in mid-September and I anticipate introducing some amount of formula at that time.

But enough nitty gritty details. Zinnias are blooming, the humidity just broke, tomatoes are turning red, the Tour de France is in the Alps, Mr. SevPrez started a new gig doing what he loves, and our first born is about to turn four. Life is good.

Her* Room

Black and white and ballet slippers. Quilt by Granmda D. Hand-knit sweater with owl-cables by my Grammy. Humpty-Dumpty lamp has been in the family since my 45 year old brother's nursery!

*The newest her.

The Odyssey

I sit here watching Wimbledon waiting to go to the hospital for an 11am appointment to be induced. I don't need to pack a bag because my bag has been in the car for a week! I had no expectation that I'd be 10 days past my due date and counting. None whatsoever. But that's the way these things go. I've been hooked up to the baby monitor 4 times in the last two weeks and all reports are that the baby is doing great. Great heartbeat, great bloodflow. I've had 2 ultrasounds and she looks a little squished but otherwise seems to be enjoying herself, moving around doing dance routines as we get poked and prodded. A showoff. Apparently your amniotic fluid levels have to be above 5 to be considered safe... Mine were at a 10 yesterday. They estimate her to be 8 lbs 10 oz, but could be up to a pound off either way (yikes!).

But when my doctor came in yesterday examine me, after all this good news she said, "The baby is perfect, she's doing great. Much better than you are." Maybe the nurse had told her that I was clearly having a nervous breakdown when she came in to check on me. Or maybe she could just see it in my eyes.

I have been kidding that the baby knows I needed a vacation. I did, surely. And it's been really nice to have some time off to gather myself before her arrival. Our parents have been awesome about watching the Pipster and she has been super eager to have sleepovers, so I've been able to get a lot of R&R. Frankly I miss my little one a bit, clearly more than she does me. But it bodes well for her in this transition that she feels so comfortable out and about. But there are strategies to waiting. For a while I employed the "tomorrow, it'll definitely be tomorrow" tactic. That starts to wear on you after a week.

A few days ago I decided that if I felt good (some days are better than others) I would just go about my business as if I wasn't 41 weeks pregnant, and stop worrying about arrival times. But that puts you into a delusional state. There is no baby! Labor and delivery? What? I just wasn't feeling mentally prepared anymore, or in the frame of mind that we were about to become a family of 4. And that was unsettling. The other thing that pops into your head is that everything's just fine until it's not -- like you're waiting for something bad to happen.

I don't know what happened to me as I stared up at the fluorescent lights in the doctor's office, listening to her little heartbeat running around 160. I just lost it and it was hard to get back. I think maybe it was a way of the universe nudging me to communicate my wishes with my doctor when I might otherwise have told myself to buck up and keep waiting. What came out of my mouth was that I couldn't go any longer than Thursday. She recommended we schedule an induction because my body, in her opinion, was ready.

So I had orders to call the hospital this morning at 5am to confirm my 6am arrival time. I set my alarm for 4:45, hopped in the shower, and... They had a crazy night and there were no beds available (!!!). Call back at 9. Luckily the Mister only had 1 sip of coffee and was able to go back to bed to get some more sleep. After trying for about an hour to go back to sleep myself, I came downstairs and low and behold, "Sneakers," my favorite Robert Redford movie, was on. I used to have it on VHS! What luck. I feel asleep on the couch and woke up a couple hours later to Breakfast at Wimbledon. Called the hospital at 9. They promised me they'd have a bed ready and everything set for 11. A much more civilized time for my fashionably late baby.

I thought I'd take a few minutes to record this epic journey to the starting line before life totally changes and I don't remember what it's like to have two free hands.

Man I am excited to meet this little girl. Keep you posted.

Catching Up On Milestones

4th birthday party guest list with figure drawings!

One of the things I've realized on the doorstep of having a newborn again is how much I've forgotten. It's been a gift to be able to refer back to this blog to see the moments I recorded. So while I'm twiddling my thumbs at home, I figured I should take the time to reflect what it's been like to have a three year old, and everything that's been going on lately. 

Someone finished their first year of nursery school (although she couldn't attend her last day because of strep throat). She made lots of friends, had a great teacher (Mrs. Larsen), and even flirted with staying for lunch (basically glorified snack time). 

We discovered that the two best ways to get a toddler to take amoxicillin twice a day for 10 days was 1) mix with chocolate milk and 2) take straight up in the shot glass that Tylenol is taken. Whatever you do, do not dispense in the dispenser they give you. 

We got much better at going to the doctor because of Doc McStuffins and giving regular check ups at home. But thankfully, we didn't have to go very often. 

Still, Curious George reigns in this house. Narrated by William H. Macy, with a theme song by Dr. John and beautiful traditional cartoon illustration, it's a blessing. I'm pretty sure we feel we've all learned a few things from George and The Man with the Yellow Hat.

The dentist was made more pleasant by having a lady dentist.

We experienced our first dance recital. It was 2 days before my due date, and I actually checked into the hospital with a false alarm that morning. But luckily we made it and our little ballerina did great. She didn't even complain about the itchiness of the costume on the day of -- but the dress rehearsal was a different story.  I was the "backstage mom" which meant I got to stay with the girls and reapply lipstick. We ordered the DVD so we'll be able to watch for years to come. 

Nightime pullups (diapers) were finally cast off for good in March this year. Once again, it was 100% due to the little one deciding it was time. 

We discovered that the best way to put off neighbors that just don't know when to stop coming over to play (and invite the whole neighborhood with them) is to look them in the eye and say "Now's not a good time." You only have to do it once. And then you can plant a hedge for good measure. And then get a fence (to be installed by mid-August). 

The Benjamin Moore paint color Ballet Slippers is not at all the color of actual ballet slippers (we are now experts, see above). For that, you must choose Peach Cloud. 

We love our new house so much we want to haunt it after we are gone. The nesting period of pregnancy was good for us here. Inside and outside, the house is shaping up to be more and more ours. I am currently planning our kitchen reno as a way to think about something else besides the arrival of our newest addition. Who knows when we'll do it, but I'll be thoroughly ready!

"Game of Thrones" is addicting. "True Detective" was brilliant. Once I figured out how to get HBO Go on Roku it was on!

Due dates are suggested arrival times. 

Grandparents that live close are godsends. 

Cousins continue to be the greatest thing since sliced bread.

Knock Knock

Just waiting around for this baby girl: three days past due and three pretty good false alarms in. I'm handling the wait much better this time around, trying to enjoy myself and my time. Yesterday we saw "Dope" at 2 in the afternoon because why not? And today we took the little one to see "Inside Out" at 3. Her first movie. Trying to get in as much quality family-of-three time as possible while the fourth takes her time.

About halfway through the movie I started getting contractions, about 5 minutes apart. Without thinking too hard about it, I really thought that was it! When we got home I put my phone charger in my bag, packed my toiletries, started timing my contractions on the app on my phone... And that's the kiss of death. I should really never do that again. I know that if I'm really going into labor I will know because the contractions will get more and more intense. But I can't help myself. Technology! It's a temptress.

Tomorrow morning is first day of gymnastics lessons. Then maybe some free time as the kiddo hangs out with her gram. What to do, what to do? I feel like I've gotten almost everything done that I can conceive of. Maybe I'll finish my book (The Lighthouse by P.D. James), go pick up an Ergo baby carrier at Babies'R'Us (aka the worst store), wash the curtains in P's room, see another movie?!!!
There's a new "Terminator" out!

Graduating

I just celebrated my 8th wedding anniversary, my daughter is about to turn four, and I am about to have a baby. I dated my husband for 4 years before we got married. We started dating right after I graduated college. I realized the other day, when on the way to meet my husband for our anniversary dinner, that I am living my life on a four year pace -- graduating to something new every four years. It's pretty wild! And I just realized, when I think about my career goals, I have a four year plan. 4 years! It's incredible.

I suppose I have been programmed to believe that it takes 4 years to learn something: elementary, junior high, high school, college. It's a comfortable amount of time for a "stage." And it did cross my mind, when thinking about having a second child, that it'd be nice not to have both of them in college at the same time.

When I told my husband, he reflected and came to the conclusion that he prefers a 2 year pace. Do you have a pace? Or are we just weird?

BTW

I commissioned a watercolor from my brother for the invite.

The Little One turned 2!

We had a party at the house. Theme: red balloons, since balloons are one of her absolutely favorite things. Once again the weather held out. We had a morning party with bagels, cream cheese, and lox; granola, yogurt, and fruit; and of course, lollipops, cupcakes, red balloon cookies, and brownies! She played ball with her cousins. She wore a red party hat. She was pushed around on her new Radio Flyer tricycle. It was one of the best days of her life so far. Here's to many many more. 

At The Nursery

Gasko's Family Farm out in Monroe Township is a magical land of plentiful plants for rock bottom prices. We joined the hordes of bickering married couples overwhelmed by the bargains, unwieldy carts, and clotted aisles, enduring it all in the name of a more beautiful lawn.

Baby SevPrez arrived asleep and woke up in her stroller ready to party. She ran all the aisles, and ultimately fell in love with some tiny blue perennials and loaded up 4 of them in the cart. We inspected all the shoots of hosta peeking their way out of the soil, and then packed ourselves into a car that felt like a jungle by the time the last door was closed: one 5' Southern Magnolia, 2 Leland Cypresses, 3 Snowball Spirea (bridal wreath, my favorite flowering bush of all time), 3 Rhodos, 1 Hydrangea, and a few of Pippa's perenials to boot. Couldn't have fit another thing!

Nota bene: Gasko's only accepts cash and checks. Smart, or else you might by the whole farm on plastic.

Exclamations

Baby SevPrez has started to talk a lot. She's been saying a few words for a long time now -- "Bop" & "woof" (in refernce to my parents' dog Bebop), "cat" & "meow," "mom" & "dad" etc. Nowadays she'll repeat almost anything you say, but she has taken especially to exclamations. She quickly learned to say "uh oh" when she drops something, which happens a lot apparently. Next was "oh boy," which she turned into "ohboy-ohboy-ohboy". Pretty much the cutest thing ever. Following was "whoa."

Are these exclamations or is there a better term? It seems just at the tip of my tongue but I can't get it out.

Also: she is a dancing fool. The "Gangnam Style" dance crazy has official reached our house by way of her big cousins. She even loves to watch the video on my iPhone, which, it turns out, is scarily intuitive to toddlers. She is infatuated with "jumping" (only one foot leaves the ground), and giving high fives and even pounds. Oh to be a year and a half old in 2013.

Reset Button

I sat the long New Year's weekend out with the flu. I did a lot of laying around, thinking of all of my to-do lists and how none of them would ever get done again and that would be OK. 

After three solid days my will to go on returned and in a burst of energy I took down all of the Christmas decorations and the tree. I grew up in a house where the Christmas tree once lingered all the way to Saint Patricks Day (with coordinating ornaments of course), so I never understood the people who took their trees down the day after New Year's until last year (my first with a child). Now I get it: let's get on with our lives already. It's a little sad but it's also so nice to feel ready to take on what's next.

The whole family experienced a rolling wave of the flu - first my dad on Christmas day, followed by my mother, my sister-in-law, my mother-in-law (on the other side of the family), myself, Baby SevPrez, and finally, the Mister. My parents were healthy enough to take the baby on the New Years Day overnight to give us a break. As much as it was such a relief to be able to lie around and sleep uninterrupted by the needs of a sick child, it was equally as amazing to just be in the house with my husband alone. As parents who both work full time, we are always trying to spend as much time with our kid as possible, which I realized while laying on the couch with a flu, is probably to the detriment of our relationship. You tend not to realize that it is difficult to completely and utterly relax and enjoy each other without being encumbered by the responsibilities of a youngin.  We need to make time, even if it's just once a month, to be alone (not after 8pm in our house on the couch while she sleeps upstairs).

I guess what I mean to say is that being sick is such a total drag on every level. But when you step back and look at it from a birds eye view, it's actually a chance to wake up and realign to what will really sustain you in having a healthier life. Like having smoothies for breakfast, or more time alone with your husband.

Xmas Morning

We were really impressed with how engaged in opening presents the little one seemed to be. She joyfully plucked tissue paper from gift bags and, most notably, was really excited for all her new clothes. She really took a liking to her sequin sweatshirt (she's a Maxxinista for sure) and insisted she wear it over her fleecey footy pajamas. Mr. SevPrez thinks its because I wore a sequin shirt on Christmas Eve, but I think she's just a magpie like me.

She received two Fishers Price toys from her Mema, and they are like gold. I forget that FP exists, and sometimes I feel bad that my kid has a mom without a clue about fun kids stuff. But let me tell you, the few loud, flashy, plastic toys that we do have make a real impact. They almost trump all our real electronic devices. Almost.

Sisyphus

Spent the day trying to absorb all of Baby SevPrez's lovely gifts into our home. Making space in her drawers for stylin new threads (2T! At least in leggings) and reorganizing our back entry bookshelf to accommodate some of the little one's books and belongings. Her shoe collection has mushroomed. She favors her patent Mary Janes but tries to put her new sparkly pink shoes on over them.

She looked adorable on Christmas Eve, then I dropped my phone in the toilet and lost my photo documentation. You'll just have to take my word for it.

Looks Good, Smells Great



In our gigantic landscaping project this summer we planted a lot of hydrangeas. Some were cast offs from the gardens of friends, some were gifts, and some were bought from our local nursery. Our gifted plants are so happy to have a loving home that they won't stop blooming. A plant that my brother gave me for Mother's Day is still producing new flowers. This abundance has allowed me to cut a stem here and there to bring the flowers inside. (One of my dreams in life is having a cutting garden so I don't have to have a guilty conscience.) To round out the arrangement I've been cutting basil flowers, which actually helps the plant grow. Can we all agree that fresh basil is The Best Smell In The World? Are there any perfumes with basil notes? Because I would wear them. And if not, why not? It's an outrage.

Also: somebody got her bangs trimmed. I did a sneak attack while she was playing (risky, I know) and then lured her to stay still in her chair with blueberries. I've cut my own bangs enough to be pretty confident in this area, even with an almost 14 month old squirmer. You can call me SuperMom. I'll turn my head.

Oh, and I have only been able to get her lace up Chuck Taylors on while she is sitting in her high chair. Toddlers really force you to think strategically.

The Next Generation Of Shoe Horse

And so it begins.

Now that the weather is cooling down it's time for Baby SevPrez to lace up. I haven't yet put her in the Cons myself, but I assume that at some point I'll get down tying her shoe laces (with a double knot) fast enough to get the job done before she runs away. The fact that my mom has done it several times so far is not all that encouraging... She is a baby whisperer and a magician. But I am her daughter, so there's some hope.

The little one has also been signing up a storm. "Open" is a particular favorite right now. It's interesting to see how she applies the concept of open to things you wouldn't think of. I try not to tell her too often, but I'm pretty sure she's a genius.

Best Friends

It's funny. I started out with the intention to write about my passport. It was expired, and I renewed it. I got it expedited and it now reflects my legal, married name. I was nervous my paperwork would get rejected, but apparently there are some parts of the US government that still have the ability to function like well oiled machines.

I am traveling for work this fall. I am going to Eastern Europe. Twice. I may be going to more places than that in other parts of the globe. In the space of a year. I had a travel bug, and it's being satisfied. It's also taking me away from Mr. and Baby SevPrez. You get what you want and it's not always in the form you expected.

If you read Treehouse Chatter, like I asked you to, you would know that she just shared what she wants in life. What she really wants. And I am so inspired by that. She is my real friend, one on my best real friends, one of the only people in this whole wide world of 6 billion people that I am willing to share my whole story with. All the gorey details. When something ugly reveals itself in my life, I call her. Because I know she will listen to me, and be there for me, without any judgement. She's also hilarious and fun and smart and intuitive and wise. There is something about her soul that my soul has recognized as being A1. You don't let those people slip away.

She is also my blog friend. I love blogs. I love professional blogs written by professional bloggers. There is a blogroll on the right side of this page that I espouse. But I'm not that, even as much as I aspire to be. I think I'll never be willing to sacrifice my privacy. This blog exists as much as a personal journal as it does a vehicle to share my life with my friends and family and world at large. So Treehouse Chatter is my real network, and my blog network, and I want you to think about what she wrote.

What would you write?

Here's what I left as a comment, that totally trumped my post about going to Romania and Poland this fall. But just so you know, if you stay tuned you'll get fun travel photos.

I want people to know what they want, and get it. Thank you for sharing your hopes and your wishes. It takes courage to roll your eyes, then answer.
I want to be a free bird. I want us all to be free birds. Nothing’s wrong. We are alive for a second; we are playing the game we make up.
I want to have direct communication with the people in my life. No more beating around the bush, filters, or acting out of guilt, shame, and obligation. Let’s everyone stop being nice, and let’s be great. Let’s make a difference in each others lives. Let’s see each others’ blind spots and stab each other in the front. We are fucking geniuses, if we could just get out of our own ways.
What I really want, most above all, is inner peace.
Now vote me Miss America.

One Year

Baby SevPrez is one! I feel like I really accomplished something. I'm awash with total satisfaction. Then, in the next moment, our lives flash before my eyes. She's one, that's what a year felt like... Soon she'll be two, then three, then seven, then 12, then off to college. It's as exciting as it is scary. I'm excited about who she will be, but scared of time passing too fast to really feel it.

But on to more frivilous things... Yesterday we had her party at our house. Just family, which for us is a gaggle of people. The weather cooperated, which is really something for New Jersey in late July. On the day she was born I enjoyed an amazing 5th floor view of a thunderstorm as I lay in bliss after finally getting an epidural. Yesterday thunder rumbled as the coffee brewed, and storm clouds were all around, but we had no more than a light spritz as we served cake inside.

The grandmas brought food (and the lion's share of everything from Costco), we grilled steaks, and I made the cake. The little one knew she was the star when we sang to her, but she was not too excited about cake. Maybe she could tell it was vegan chocolate cake (but it had full butter/full sugar icing, I'm not a monster). She did, however, go to town on some watermelon slices. If I hadn't taken it away from her she would have eaten the green part. What a charater.

As predicted, her favorite gift was a piece of wrapping paper. Ah, to be one.

Little Feet

Passed out in the car seat after a fun afternoon.

They might actually not be so little... Mr. SevPrez jokingly refers to me as Chief Big Toe (I do have a big big toe), so I dubbed the little one Chief Little Big Toe.

Funny names aside, she started walking on Monday, July 9th. Two steps at a time, a couple times. Now I believe she's up to 4. Very, very exciting.

My mom would also like me to add that she's signing "more" and "all done."

Today three generations of SevPrez women had an impromptu summer day of fun. Mom met me at the craft store where I was picking up dye for an upcoming project. Then we went shopping and had lunch. Chief Little Big Toe didn't sleep a wink. She was just too excited to miss a thing.


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What's Going On?

Please excuse my absence. Lots of soul searching and life living going on. And stomach bugs. Spring has sprung and all this sunshine has been inspiring me to walk around SoHo and take pictures of things other than my incredibly adorable 8 month old. 

Cherry blossoms on Bleecker, my office building all the way on the right.

Mini Pies, $10, Dean & Deluca.

I identify with these caged daffodils. Too dramatic?

Enjoy your spring holiday weekend. I am a pagan but the ideas of rebirth (Easter) and freedom (Passover) are really speaking to me this year. I seem to have a complete nervous breakdown every March (always for different reasons), and I am I starting to think I should anticipate it and commemorate it like some sort of religious holiday. All my self-torment inevitably leads to incredible personal insights. Breakdown to breakthrough, as they say.