Friday, July 19, 2013

Party in the office

Do not attempt unless you have help, i.e. Dad.

Thanks to a recent doctor visit, I now know that when I lug both children from the car into our apartment building, I am carrying an extra 48 pounds 10 ounces. The 18 and 10 ounces are Margot, Theo is 30. Theo is 37.25 inches, which is .75 inches away from heaven, meaning the play area at IKEA.

I have thought a lot about this doctor visit. I scheduled it probably a day after I knew we were moving for sure. I find security in the familiar--and I knew that in Portland I had a wonderful, Harvard-educated-but-used-to-be-a-schoolteacher pediatrician and that her assistant Helen would sling the fastest rounds of shots I have ever seen in my life. These type of details become paramount when I remember how I sat and watched poor Margot scream as a previous assistant in New Mexico gave three shots in two legs with long pauses between. Horrors!

So when I saw Helen's friendly face calling us back to the exam room, I almost got misty-eyed and I definitely gave her a side hug when she remembered us. I knew the potential for awkwardness was high but I did not care one bit.We were back! For reals.

Not every part of our move has been this hug filled. Sure, I was so happy to be back but the first week or two I did not anticipate how out of kilter and out of place I would feel, moving to a different part of Portland (technically not even Portland) that was not what I was used to. Even though the Portland  I was used to was living in a dark, tiny, ant-filled cave off of a busy highway across from an Albertson's, and now we live in a much bigger lighter place that is still off a busy highway down the street from an Albertson's. I drove past our old place in the first few days and I missed it. I worried that this huge life decision of settling down in a location possibly for life may have been wrong. I was experiencing what you could call moving anxiety, which happens even when the change is highly positive and exactly what you wanted. Malorie from six months ago would have slapped me. Multiple times. But it just happens, turns out. It's a highly google-able condition and luckily passes quickly. I of course did not contract a full blown case of moving depression, which definitely happened in T or C and caused me to blow through almost all my placenta pills, which are magical little hormone capsules but did not magically transport me back to Oregon IN a tiny capsule. They can only do so much. Or so little?

Friday, July 12, 2013

Belated and Double Birthdays

First of all, we are back in Oregon. It's awesome, and it feels like we never left. Except we did and it seemed like we were gone forever. Pretend that makes sense. I always need a significant pause in blogging after or during a cross country move, because well--it's a cross country move. While it made for some stressful moments and two table leaves that have not yet resurfaced, we spent about three weeks visiting our families and friends along the way, which was highly enjoyable. I hate catching up on blog posts, all my creative thoughts get turned into mush and I turn into a version of my grade school journals--"We went here, it was fun." So things will be out of order and posted however I feel like it. Here's a birthday post.

Margot and Theo are showing some true glimmers of playing together. Theo loves to make her giggle and they chase each other around the house and through tunnels, or yell at each other in the car,  Theo mimicking Margot's monkey sounds. It makes me really excited for the future, which will hopefully include more sharing and less of me acting as a referee who decides who had what toy first.

Theodore is truly a boy in every way now. He has really lost most of the shyness that our isolation brought upon him, telling random strangers rambling stories that they pretend to be interested in. He loves to sing and dance (right now he loves to pretend to play the guitar to Cat Stevens), do flips and other things that have me looking into gymnastic classes. He says hilarious things. A while ago Jon and I were dancing in the kitchen like a couple on Lawrence Welk as he sat at the counter and he suddenly blurted, "Mama, Daddy, stop--I'm trying to eat!" He calls a box of Cap'n Crunch "Cap'n Scrunch." (He reads the box while he eats oatmeal.) He calls a hockey stick a "hockey pocket," which also leads me to think he doesn't know the difference between the stick or the puck. He loves to repeat anything older kids say, and after a month of being around girl cousins pink is his favorite color. He loves his dad more than anyone on earth. He's not always very gentle with Margot but he truly loves her and loves when she gives him attention. 

A small update on 13 month Margot--she loves to repeat words, make more signs, walk with assistance, and climb to the top of our tall two-step stool in the bathroom by herself in the dark. She loves to scare me.