Cleanse Yourself

If you are at all like me—busy running around like a chicken with its head cut off (what a horrible saying that is) --with a small to minuscule short term memory that fades more and more each day, you may need to keep all kinds of notes on your palm phone, journal, notepad, or put post its all around your home.

It makes no difference whether the notes are uplifting mantras, ‘firsts’ to add to your sons baby book or reminders of family members birthdays, as long as they help you remember things.  Just make sure that you do not forget to record the most important things...

like adding a new supplemental juice to your diet.

It would have helped me to remember that the last few weeks while running to the toilet with diarrhea and after each meal to explain my stomach aches.  Instead, I blamed my son for bringing something home from daycare, the stress at work, and my husband for the stinky cheese that he always buys.

When I realized they were not the culprit, I thought back to our Santa Fe trip with all of the Mexican food we ate--- as I did, all of the recall notices I have been seeing for peppers and chilies and tomatoes ran through my head.

Then I thought, “Well maybe I just caught a stomach bug.”

The last one seemed to stick for all the symptoms I was having, and so this is what the story became.   Since then I have been leaving work early, and had my co-workers concerned about how ‘green’ I look each day.

If i would have written myself a reminder note or sent myself an email, I might have remembered the ‘cleansing period’ that all folks tell you about so you will continue to buy their products even when they make you sick.

Finally, this morning downing my 1 oz of new Aloe Juice, it dawned on me and I remembered that the timing of the ‘stomach ailment’ is exactly as long as the time I have been drinking the juice.

Thankfully now the ‘healing crisis’ has ended and I have a few more weeks to find out if the juice is doing anything for me. If I gain nothing else from the experiment, at least I can take solace in the fact that I did a smaller version of the master cleanse unknowingly and without really noticing. There may be no better way to do it.

Get out of bed, eventually things get better

It never fails that on or the day before my birthday, something ridiculous happens.

I should have known when I woke to the sound of a gunshot yesterday, to stay in bed.

Thankfully the gunshot turned out to be a truck with gas, however, it was definitely a warning shot.

After crazy glueing my fingers together trying to fix a toy for Isaac, a red nail polish incident that left carpet hanging in the balance and made my son look like Dennis Rodman, a nasty chain of emails from some lovely neighbors, and a balance bar that ended up all over every inch of my son- making it look like he was imitating black face, I pressed on loading the car for a trip to the city so Leo and I could have a date night.

After 10 trips back into the house, (poor Isaac that will likely never marry a Taurus because of this trait)Isaac was growing impatient, so I ran to the dumpster to throw our trash out and be on our way. 

Clink.

What was that?

Climbing up in my flip flops, I searched for something that could have made that sound and finally my eyes focused on a familiar object,

MY CAR KEYS.

Nice.

Tacking inventory of my book of memories, searching to see if I had encountered and solved this before, I came up with nothing.

Then suddenly I thought;

SKI POLE.

After a struggle trying to teach the ski pole a new trick, I escaped victorious and was so excited that I nearly ended up face first in the dumpster any way.

"One more trip into the house, I promise Isaac."

"MAMA, NO!!"

And just as I nearly escaped our bedroom, I saw an incoming email on the computer announcing my surprise party.

At least I had time to pick a cuter outfit, practice my surprised face and know that there just might be a light at the end of the tunnel.

Some days it is just your turn

We have all walked past a child knee and face deep in a full on tantrum and turned to look at the mother.  What is she doing to manage the situation?  Is this child a brat or just having a moment?

Living in a community with lots of families, I see this quite often and I am surprised that it is other moms who are often the first to judge and throw out a stink eye bomb. 

It has happened to me on a few occasions - IE yesterday at the ski area, and I wished out loud for an invisible shield to place around Isaac and I until he was done with his Oscar winning performance.

Just then, I ran into a woman who had interviewed me for an early childhood education position and almost had to laugh as the universe really does has a good sense of humor if you can take a step back to dance in those moments. 

"Hmm, he is dramatic, isn't he?"

Minutes later after his tummy was full and he was allowed to slosh around in the melting snow, Isaac was fine and began strutting like casanova on the back patio of the lodge. 

His MO:
He begins flirting with little girls, but within minutes is grabbing hands with women in their 40s, 50s and 60s and dancing around them to cast them in his spell.

"He is such a sweet boy, so friendly, entertaining himself, so happy, is he always like that?"

I smile and plead the 5th.

Somedays you are the mom with the brat, some days you are the mom with the golden child.

Lets face it, we all have good and bad days. 

Somedays it is just your turn.

It's the end of the world as I know know it

Issac has figured out how to climb out of his crib, walk downstairs and help himself to his toys, thankfully he cannot open the fridge yet or I suspect he might have made himself breakfast too while waiting for his Papa to get up yesterday.

I know that I should be happy that Issac is growing into a new phase of independence, but instead I am a bit verklempt, and not all in a good way.

Soon the days of putting him in his crib for naps or quiet time will be gone and then Mama will really have no time to herself at home since my wonderful, glorious son stalks me daily if I am anywhere in the house.

As soon as the bath is drawn and I quietly ease into it, or just as I am about to sneak a solo bathroom break or a delicious phone call from my best girl. . .

a door flies open, a hand comes through the smallest part of the child-proofed door, or I get to witness a delightful concerto of MAMA, MAMA, MAMA until I exit or he is allowed to enter. 

I did try hiding in a dark closet yesterday so I could catch up with a friend.  We laughed as I whispered and silenced myself completely when I heard him opening doors and looking for me.  (bad mama)

Somehow I know I should treasure this time because I know that it will not last. 

At least I still have his high chair that I can strap him into.

 

You really thought you could hide from ME?

Bilingual Child

Ok, so have I mentioned that Leo and I are attempting to raise Isaac as a bilingual child? 

They - whoever they are- say that it helps with brain development and lord knows, I do not want to disappoint my MIL or husband since they are both fluent.  I do wonder at times how much my son will have an opportunity to speak Russian where we live. 

Even so, I have been the one to tell Leo to continue when he was ready to throw in the towel.  I am happy that Isaac seems to understand us both in two languages, and has busted out a paka, da, and spasiba from time to time. 

I have wanted to learn Russian, but it is a doozy of a language so I have been able to skirt the issue until this week. . .

A friend of mine just secured an inexpensive Russian Rosetta stone for me in Asia, so now I am on the hot seat.  I hope I can find time for my lessons between job searching, writing, creating the new online blog here for the local paper that now has been added to all of the mountain area webistes (yikes- can you say writers block), waiting for my real estate license to transfer so I can begin to build that business, being a wife, mother, carving out an hour to myself a week, and cleaning up my car after the projectile vomiting episode with Isaac this weekend when we attempted to have a nice day in the city.

Don't get me wrong, I have wanted the Rosetta Stone for awhile, but now I will have no excuse not to attempt to learn Russian even if I get a headache just looking at its unusual letters.

Truth be told, the headache can really be blamed on the memory of my first and only trip to Russia with Leo.

No disrespect to Russia, it is a lovely place, but when you are sitting in a room full of Russians who all love to hear themselves talk, and then you realize that a week has gone by without you hearing ANYTHING that you understand, and suddenly your husband breaks out of his trance and appologizes for his family and friends and you realize that aside from one person at the table, everyone speaks English, you can get a little violent.

Perhaps those are the same sentiments that surface when I hear others saying that Isaac is a little delayed in his speech.  HE IS LEARNING TWO LANGUAGES.

In any case, I am trying to stay calm, but the next person that mentions his development in this area may well find one of these in a place they are not expecting it.