It Begins

Psst! Are you sleeeeeping?
No!
Good. I think she's in the living room now. How about I go first, then you.
Ok...what do we say?
Umm your tummy hurts. My head hurts.
But my tummy hurt yesterday.
Oh yeah. Ok, my tummy hurts, your head hurts.
Good one.
Remember to wait a bit after I go out, that way she won't figure it out!

Mom....my tummy hurts. Can I sit with you?

And so it was on many occasions, my sister and I collaborated in the hallway minutes post-nap-prep and subsequently spent the entire naptime curled up on our mom's lap, watching TV because we were "ailing". So clever, we were.

Both Krissy and I remember these conversations quite vividly - the planning, the scheming. I am sure we became a bit more sophisticated as the years went on; we were so proud of our plans. My mom, with her huge heart and love of kid-cuddles gave in to our ploy time and again, much to our delight.

Yesterday afternoon after a very active morning, I carefully placed Ryan in his bed for a much needed nap. I wrapped him in his gigantic fuzzy blue blanket, read him a story, gave him a sip of water and tucked his favorite stuffed dog neatly under his arm. I knew for sure he would be out in minutes, and so after a kiss on his forehead I headed downstairs, looking forward to some kid-free time.

Three minutes passed and I heard the unmistakable "thump thump thump" of two-year-old feet running down the hallway and expertly maneuvering the stairwell. He opened the door, puppydog still underarm.
"What's wrong?" I ask, thinking it must be something urgent, because he NEVER gets out of bed until he is done sleeping once he has been put there. (Not sarcasm here, truly, he believes he is glued in. Ok, the glue might be a bit of sarcasm, but the effect is the same.)

"I don't feel good." he replies, head tilted a bit, lower lip protruding ever so slightly.
"Oh my! What hurts?" I over-react on purpose, knowing the charade so well from my own upbringing. A tiny bit of delight wells up inside me, realizing he has come up with this ploy all on his own.
"Puppydog don't feel good."
"You're both sick?"
"Yeah."
"Oh no..." I pause meaningfully, as if this might mean real intervention, like gummybear medicine or perhaps a jellybean. Whatever might we do for this sickness that has so quickly swept over the two of them? "Well then! You both need a good nap. Up we go!"

Snickering to myself I carried my son upstairs, thinking that I can't wait until his brother gets old enough to be a cohort. Then again, my cold, tiny raisin of a heart would probably still make them take naps.
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Plus, David has the very beginnings of teeth. Two or three can be felt in the very front on the bottom row. Though you can't yet see them, their tiny needle-like tooth-ness is unmistakably present!

First In the Nation

I haven't always been a huge political fan...but I have to admit one of my favorite pastime's includes talk radio. (Plus, I turned 45 last month, so in addition I will also be working on my mid-life crisis). Being home throughout the day gives me plenty of time to follow events and happenings both locally and nationally through this medium. These past eleven months, Iowa has been gearing up steadily for the Iowa Caucuses. Before moving here, I had heard a bit about these...mostly in passing. But I could not believe the attention our tiny state got this past year from presidential hopefuls. Candidates regularly visited cities where we do our grocery shopping (to put it in perspective for you, it would be like saying Barack Obama is speaking tonight in Graham, or Granite Falls) speaking to small groups of people. Each Monday the news would start with "Huckabee will be in Waterloo this morning, while McCain is travelling to Iowa City. Obama will be at the Elementary gymnasium in Marshalltown, and Hillary will be speaking with seniors in Ames." It became so routine.

But as the caucuses got closer, I started to wonder- was this like a vote? Why were all of these candidates here?

And so I researched, listened, asked questions, and found out how to do this "caucus" thing. And yesterday, we caucused. We decided that if we were going to be in Iowa, we were not going to miss a chance to have a voice like this- where some 118,000 republicans and 230,000 democrats show up to give America a taste of what is to come.

What an experience! I am used to the kind of voting where you go, stand in a line, punch a few holes or tap a screen a few times, receive your neat little sticker and leave.

But last night, we showed up to a room full of our neighbors - some we had met, others we had not. I'm sure it was routine for them- they knew who the democrats and republicans are in the area, but I felt like I was attending a secret meeting. "Psst! It's me! I didn't know you were republican!"

It was set up like a town meeting, with a few older gentleman standing at the front, along with a secretary who took notes. The 60 or so people in the room stood to say the pledge, and then sat down in chairs, facing the front. The head of this little meeting of ours (some 60 people) asked if anyone would like to come up and speak for a candidate. There were no special representatives there from the parties- only us "local folk". A few people stood up and talked- one for John McCain, one for Fred Thompson. Can you imagine giving a speech in front of your neighborhood, attempting to persuade them to vote for your candidate? It seems so open, so vulnerable, so NOT private! Yet this is the great thing about a caucus- it's about collaboration- making sure people are informed versus voting by name recognition. Then, they handed out little scraps of paper and had us write the name of the candidate we wanted to vote for. What? No multiple choice? Only now do I realize the opportunity we squandered. I could have written down "Obama" or "Mike McCain". I wonder if those poor vote counters would have come out to ask who the hidden democrat in the group was. But no, we were mature, civilized Iowans and kept our rowdiness at bay.

At our tiny caucus, the votes were as follows:
26 Huckabee
15 Mitt Romney
14 Fred Thompson
8 John McCain
4 Ron Paul
Guillani and Hunter- none.

After the vote, people brought up different issues and such that they wanted addressed by the republican platform. It was grassroots politics at its best- a time when I actually felt like I had a voice AND what I said counted. Now, granted, this was all straw poll voting...and "suggestion" giving to the state party. But this all starts somewhere. Last night Iowa had record turnouts to their caucuses - the republicans expecting 80,000 and the dems expecting 150,000- the actual numbers ended up at 120,000 and 230,000. We met in a tiny school cafeteria (which we filled up with the 60 of us!) and the democrats met next door in the fire hall. I was amazed at how well-informed people were on the issues and the candidates. They knew who stood for what, the ins and outs of the fair tax versus the flat tax, and what the death tax was about and why we should be leery of legislation dealing with it. They discussed Social Security reform, marriage, and the preservation of life. I can see why this process is so respected in Iowa- as people here really do take it quite seriously.

Both Phil and I left feeling invigorated by the process. And after last night's results, I can't wait to see what happens in New Hampshire!

AND, if you haven't been following along, start! It's quite interesting. I know everyone knows about Hillary and Barack, but there are some good candidates on the other side of the aisle, too, like Huckabee and Thompson. This is a year to get involved!

Heat Wave

Tonight the low will be -1 degree, according to weather.com. About a month ago, a nice ice storm came and covered our roads, lawns, and sidewalks with a layer of frozen water, only to be then covered again by snow. The ground, normally visible for a majority of the winter, has been white and cumbersome - continuously demanding snowboots and scoffing at snowshovels, which are no match for the ice so strongly adhered to the path. And though technically winter has just begun, it feels like it should be ending.
Oh, long winter, show us mercy.
So when I look at the 10 day forecast and it shows a 51 degree day coming up on Sunday, I do a little jig, ever so giddy that there is a heat wave on the horizon. It might even melt the snow and the ice. But, to get there, we still have days of below zero temps, let alone the "windchill factor", which amounts to eight gazillion below zero when you are in the country without much around you to slow down the freight-train wind.

Christmas Number Three

If I close my eyes tight enough, we are in a warm mountain cabin, surrounded by a dense forest of trees, heavy with snow. Even the morning songs of birds are muffled by the blanket of winter. All is calm, and all is bright. We are far from everyone, nestled in and curled up. No one to know that we spent the better part of the day curled up in fuzzy pajamas reading David Copperfield or snuggling close to a two-year old just bleary-eyed enough to sit still. The smell of breakfast- eggs, pancakes, bacon- mingles with the sweet woodfire, beckoning me to the kitchen for a fresh cup of steaming coffee.
Minus the mountain, this was our Christmas: A warm cabin, glowy, bright, quiet, secluded. Nowhere to be, nothing pressing to do. Unheard of in this family. And absolutely wonderful. But I imagine the mountain in because it just feels right.
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Across the country, our families are together, warm and enjoying laughter, squeezing babies and soaking up tiny smiles. I am so happy for them, all under one roof (ok, different roofs but together family-style). I feel lonely for all those out West. An ache that doesn't sting like our first Christmas here, but is present nonetheless.
But tumbling quickly after my melancholy is the realization that I have so much to be grateful for. True, our family's Christmas is spread like butter over the United States. But I can take comfort in so many things:
Our families are healthy and four new babies have been added to our number this year. Phil and I have been given two healthy, sweet children to raise, and I am home with them to see my own tiny smiles each day. We have webcameras that both allow my oldest son to wave to his Aunt, Uncle and cousin in Hawaii, and my family in Washington to see my youngest wriggle and squirm. We have dry wood that keeps our house warm. Our parents love and support us so unfailingly, even to the tune of multiple visits, canning and chicken-chasing. We have friends who span miles with prayers, phone calls, and visits, and a church filled with people who have become such a family for us in Iowa.
I don't know why, but being so far from all those who love us so well...from those we love so well...it makes me just so grateful for each one of you. Still, I long for strong hugs and talks over hot cider.
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Christmas was a beautiful day. A warm 37 degrees was like a heat wave next to our week of sub-freezing weather. A bleary-eyed Ryan was carried downstairs wrapped in a thick blanket six times his size to snuggle with Dad. Present after present was opened, more slowly than last year, each present receiving it's due attention. The generosity of our friends and family is overwhelming.
We spent the second part of the day at Phil's uncle's house, surrounded by extended family. The boys soaked up the attention and Phil and I rested our arms a bit (kids get heavy). It felt so good to be around family today, and we were so thankful to be invited to share their day with them.

It sounds so cliche to say that I miss you all, that I am thinking of you at your individual Christmases...but it is quite true. In my mind I am eating jello salad at my mom's house, sweet potato casserole at Tif's Aunt Frances', pepper jam with Tycen and Sonja, clam chowder at Phil's mom's, Jimmy Carter balls with Tara and Todd, trying pineapple cookies with our Hawaiian siblings...
Don't ask me why you are all wrapped up with food...maybe it's because you are good cooks, or maybe I should weigh three times what I do for the amount of thought process that goes toward food...we may never know.
Please squeeze your families for me. Merry Christmas, all.

New Market for Dave

We have been working diligently on potty training in our house. There has been much weeping and gnashing of teeth on part of mom...shameless M&M/candy cane/Hershey kiss bribes...and only (wow, I didn't realize it had been so long) 5 or so months after I started the process, dear son is making huge headway.
I have heard recommendations from other mom's that we have a P.T. boot-camp, if you will. You send them in diapers, retrieve them in pants. No fuss, no muss. I'll vote for it. After this...experience...yes, I would definitely vote for it.
Tonight as we were settling down, the little guy asked for a hug. Then he looked up at me with big, blue eyes and said "Treat, mom?"
"Oh, sweetheart, you know those are for when you go potty."
"Yah. I go potty!"
"No, for after...not before."
"No, I go potty! Can I havva treat now, please?"
Oh my.
So, I know they have Dave Ramsey classes for high school kids, but do you think they have a preschooler edition? Because this whole Treats on Credit for Potty thing makes me wonder if Visa has been sending him mail without my knowledge.
"0 percent APR on all M&M transfers! Defer potty-going until 2009! Don't let going potty get in the way of building blocks or making trains! Have your diapers and eat candy, too!"
Those credit companies are shameless, I tell you.