I have too many fonts…and I want more!

I didn’t blog this weekend (but I did blog three times in one day last week) Now, it is Wednesday. So much for trying to blog everyday. I should just fill the days that I have nothing to say with photographs. But then that would require that I take pictures, and I don’t have time for that. There are brushes out there to be downloaded and fonts to find.

I have been spending a lot of my day searching for and downloading fonts and brushes in my quest to have a super well stocked Photoshop and Illustrator library. I think I may have a problem, and I think I may need an intervention. It seems that I can waste an endless amount of time and energy downloading pretty things, instead of devoting time to working, or blogging, or taking pictures, or even learning how to use the software better. I am a great time waster.

So I downloaded hundreds of fonts and brushes, all in the hopes that I can start to amass a large collection of original digital scrapbook paper. Guess how many pages I have made? Four. That’s right, hundreds of fonts and brushes and all I have to show for it is four measly pages. They are also all in the orange color family, and not on this particular computer.

I am hoping that all this collecting will add up to me being able to start my own little side-project/business. I would love to actually have some creative freedom to design and create my own invitations, scrapbook pages, announcements, business cards, etc., instead of just creating art for the man and the man’s minions.But then again, who has time.

Right now my life is at a crossroads, and at some point, I will no longer have much time on my hands at all. I guess this girl needs to stop wasting time and start making time for the things that are important. Until then, I have a million brushes, if anybody needs one. =P

Some Catch-up Photos:

Bump’n baby.

Snuggling Glowy

his favorite animal, “uttitus,” or Elephant.

Smoochin’ his friend “ahBelle” (Isabelle).

He never goes anywhere without a Tonka Chuck truck.

He sometimes gets too tired to stay awake through dinner. :)

This face lights up my life.

Couch to 5K and My first Race…

     Okay, so I did it. I did something monumental, something completely insane for me, something I never thought I could do in a million years – no a billion years. I ran for 30 minutes straight. Me, the girl who couldn’t even run a mile in high school. Me, the girl who would get winded and hyperventilate during a soccer game. Me, the girl who said, “I will NEVER be a runner,” ran. 2 + miles. Ran. For 30 minutes. It was probably one of the most glorious personal triumphs of my life. I did it!

      My journey from Couch to 5K was not a short one. After a year and a half of staring in the mirror, disgusted with what I saw before me, I decided I needed to do something drastic. Of course, the drastic measures I was going to take did not include limiting my food intake – that would be too hard- instead, I decided I was going to “work it” all off. So one fateful day at August’s close, I decided to start the Couch to 5K program. I tried to rally some girlfriends to join me – I do much better if someone is there to kick my butt – and start this program.

      Running would do for me what no other exercise and diet regimen could, it would allow me to eat the foods I loved and still be slim. So I set out to do this. With my friend Katherine and our babies in tow, we started the program on August 30, 2010.

 
       We met at Green Lake, in front of the community center on a Monday morning. At first, I would walk to the lake from my apartment, adding 40 minutes round trip to my work outs. As the workouts intensified, I started to drive to the lake because the extra 40 minutes was torturous on my muscles.

       Our workouts ramped up slowly, but slow as it was, it was still painful. I was so out of shape, and it took weeks to be comfortable. Week 1 workouts went like so: Brisk 5-minute walk, followed by alternating intervals of 90 seconds of running and 2 minutes of walking. Those first three days were hard, but doable. The following week, week 2, started out the same.  This was one of the easiest weeks, and I actually made real progress.

The rest of the weeks went as follows:
Week 3: Brisk 5-minute warm-up walk, 90 seconds of jogging,  90 seconds walking, 3 minutes jogging, three minutes walking. Repeat twice.
Week 4: Brisk 5-minute warm-up walk,  jog 3 minutes, walk 90 seconds, jog 5 minutes, walk 2 minutes, jog 3 minutes, walk 5 minutes.
Week 5:
Monday: Brisk five-minute warm-up, jog 5 minutes, walk 3 minutes, jog 5 minutes, walk 3 minutes, jog 5 minutes.
Wednesday: Brisk five-minute warm-up walk, jog 8 minutes, walk 5 minutes, jog 8 minutes.
Friday: Brisk 5-minute warm-up, jog 20 minutes without stopping.
Week 6:
Monday: Brisk 5-minute warm-up walk, jog 5 minutes, walk 3 minutes, jog 8 minutes, walk 3 minutes, jog 5 minutes.
Wednesday: Brisk 5-minute warm-up, jog 10 minutes, walk 3 minutes, jog 10 minutes.
Week 7: Brisk 5-minute warm-up walk, jog 25 minutes.
Week 8: Brisk 5-minute warm-up walk, jog 28 minutes.
Week 9: Brisk 5-minute warm-up walk, jog 30 minutes.

     The program was challenging, but doable. Sure, I had weeks where I didn’t want to get out of bed and run. I had weeks where I was sick and had to take the day, or a few days, off. But I completed it. And on November 21, 2010, I ran my first 5K, the Green Lake Gobble and Mashed Potato Munch Off. I signed up for the race with my friend Keri and made shirts for us that said, “Mamas to the Max.”

   The race took place on a Sunday morning. Keri came to my apartment, and we got dressed for the race. We walked down to Green Lake together, which was a great warm-up. Keri decided to walk the race (and she made great time), so I didn’t have someone to lean on during the hard parts of the run.

    I started out in the 11:00-12:00 minute heat. When the gun fired, it seemed to take forever to start running. It took about 4 minutes to weed through the crowd and get up to my run pace. I ran a very steady, comfortable pace and was passing people left and right. I passed people the entire race, which to my competitive spirit, felt really good. I finished the race at 38:14:00, which when you deduct the 4 minutes it took to start, means that I completed 3 miles in 34 minutes (an average of 11:30 splits). I was so proud of myself, and so was my husband. It was a terrific accomplishment, and it will not be my last race.

Since finishing C25K and running my race, I have also started Weight Watchers.  The discipline of running was a great head start, but I do need a little bit of help when it comes to portion control. In four days, I have lost 4 lbs. I am excited to get into the best shape of my life, the energy it has given me, and self-confidence it is bringing to my life. If I can do it, anyone can!

Race Day:

My friend Keri and I in our “Mamas to the Max” shirts. He Max is three weeks older than my Max.

The back of the shirts with our boy’s picture in the zero.

After the 1 mile mark. I was still smiling and comfortable.

About to cross the finish line.

Must Push Buttons…

Chasing after a toddler is hard work. They are smart, inquisitive, and into everything at their hand and eye level. Max is no exception. His energy is boundless, as is his need to get into everything within his grasp. Often times, I cannot keep up with him, and more often than not, I find myself saying “no, don’t touch that, leave mommy’s computer alone, how can you reach that already, you are making me so tired, get out of the window, don’t put that in there, where did you put mommy’s keys, stop pushing that button, careful, we don’t slam the cabinets, arrrrrgh!”

By the end of the day, I am exhausted. So tired that I forget to do things that I have been doing for years like brushing my teeth and washing my face. By 9 pm, I can barely keep my eyes open, but I want to continue to spend time with my husband, alone, kid free. By 10 pm, I fall into bed, so exhausted that I can barely get on my pajamas.

Max is one of the busiest boys I have ever known. From the moment he gets up in the morning, until he takes his first nap, he has gotten into every drawer and emptied out every cabinet. He  has removed the pots and pans, and replaced them with sippy cups full of milk and toy trucks. He has taken every magnet off the refrigerator and put them in every drawer in the kitchen. He has put all of his little people toys in between the slats of the entertainment cabinet. He has removed all of daddy’s t-shirts from the dresser. He has climbed up on the window sill so that he could get a better view of the passing bus. He is everywhere at once and into everything.

But I love it. I love every bit of being this little boy’s mommy. He is my heart, my world. He is so smart and funny. He is the light of my life. So for the next 30 days, I am going to make sure that I share what it is really like to be Max’s mommy, and what is going on in my life. This is my 30 Days of Blogging. Whether it is through words, videos, or pictures, I will be sharing the magic that is Max and our life. 

1, 2, 3… Ah, ah, ah!

Max’s Words:

This is the most current list of Max’s words at 18 months, 3 weeks.

1. Daddy
2. Mommy
3. Kitty and Cat
4. Dog
5. Tree
6. Fishy
7. Baby
8. Yeah
9. Hot
10. Dirt
11. Ball
12. What’s that
13. This
14. All done
15. Truck
16. Car
17. Box
18. Ball
19. Cookie
20. Bath
21. Green
22. Shoe
23. Mouth
24. Eyes
25. Opa
26. Grandma
27. Bite
28. Bus
29. Apple
30. Down
31. Cheese
32. Cracker
33. Please
34. Juice
35. Octopus (Oppapus)
36. Turtle
37. Keys
38. Poo Poo
39. Uh-Oh
40. Tractor
41. Choo-Choo
42. Yummy
43. Beep Beep
44. Moon
45. Airplane
46. Bite Please
47. Boy
48. Girl
49. Noodle
50. Purple
51. Duck
52. Book
53. Boat
54. Beast
55. Toes
56. Knee
57. Ear
58. Hair
59. George
60. Isabelle (Ah-Belle)
61. Elmo
62. Abby Cadabby (Abby Dabby)
63. Bert
64. Ernie
65. Oscar
66. Bird
67. Shoes

Max signs:

1. All done
2. Milk
3. More
4. Food

And we shall call this post “Talking Tuesday…”

Someone has been a busy little talker. He’s learned a whole slough of new words since last week. I think he’s trying to keep up with his buddy, Cam! Here are Max’s new words:

1. Daddy
2. Mommy
3. Kitty and Cat
4. Dog
5. Tree
6. Fishy
7. Baby
8. Yeah
9. Hot
10. Dirt
11. Ball
12. What’s that
13. This
14. All done
15. Truck
16. Car
17. Box
18. Ball
19. Cookie
20. Bath
21. Green
22. Shoe
23. Mouth
24. Eyes
25. Opa (Grandpa in Dutch)
26. Grandma
27. Bite
28. Bus
29. Apple
30. Down
31. Cheese
32. Cracker
33. Please
34. Juice

Max signs:

1. All done
2. Milk
3. More
4. Food

My Little Hands and Little Feet are Busy Everyday!

     Maxwell is now 16-months old. That’s right, 16 months. Actually, Maxwell is on the verge of being 17-months old. Obviously, my promise of being a good blogger and keeping up with the Chronicles of Max have gone by the wayside. Minutes, hours, days, weeks, and months are flying by as if someone is carelessly ripping them from the calendar. Is it really September already.

      I used to be a part of the busy hustle, the hubub if you will, of the early weeks of September, tirelessly preparing my classroom for the first day of school. I would long for one last hurrah during labor day weekend before I would have to go back to bells, grade books, and lesson plans. Now, I wake up everyday to sloppy baby kisses, coffee being brewed, and art projects calling my name through Adobe Illustrator and Photoshop. I get to spend my days creating art for clients and fun for a little boy who seems to be growing up way too fast. Although I do miss teaching, I love the time that I get to spend with my little man. It is really true…these days go by way too fast, and you never get them back!

      Things in life are different, but wonderful. We recently moved from a sleepy small town to the big city. We live in a quaint little apartment, just big enough for the three of us, and we are able to get out to new and exciting places a lot more now. The first week that we were in our apartment, we went to the lake everyday and four different farmer’s markets. There is so much more to do, and most of it is within walking distance. We are close to parks, lakes, friends, and cupcakes. Most importantly cupcakes. Max is thriving and changing everyday.

      We recently took Max to the doctor for his 15-month appointment, late. He was actually 16 months. And while he is still on the charts, Max is no less a huge baby boy. He measured in the 90th-95th percentile across the board.

                     Weight: 30 lbs, 3 oz

                      Height: 32.75 inches

                      Head Circumference: 49.5 cm

       He is talking all the time now, mostly gibberish mixed in with real words.

Max’s Vocabulary:

1. Daddy
2. Mommy
3. Kitty and Cat
4. Dog
5. Tree
6. Fishy
7. Baby
8. Yeah
9. Hot
10. Dirt
11. Ball
12. What’s that
13. This
14. All done
15. Truck
16. Car
17. Box
18. Ball
19. Cookie
20. Bath
21. Green
22. Shoe
23. Mouth
24. Eyes

Max signs:

1. All done
2. Milk
3. More
4. Food

There’s probably so much more to say, but I am not in a scribing mood. I will try to get my thoughts down as they come, but for now.. adorableness and a new watermark.

 

Growth, Talking, and Walking…

I, like any true slacker, can always find ways to not do the things I know I should do in favor of doing the things that I want to do. This blog is no exception. I have been neglecting it again and it shows.
I fell off the blogging wagon around the time that we all contracted a nasty virus. The boys were sicker than me, but I still fell pretty ill. And although I escaped the double-ear and double-eye infections, I did not escape the lethargy, fever, muscle aches, and other doosy flu symptoms. Max got it far worse than either of us. He ran 104+ fevers for days. He had infections in both of his eyes and ears. He was so sick that he barely moved for days. It was scary. I called the emergency line multiple times, each call ending with the same result: if he isn’t dehydrated and if his fever hasn’t reached 105 degrees, there was nothing they could do. We just had to wait it out.
And wait it out we did. It took two weeks, bottles of infant ibuprofen and Tylenol, Pedialyte, cold baths, eye drops (which is quite possibly the hardest thing in the world to administer to a toddler), and lots of sleepless nights, but we made it through.
It has taken me a very long time to get back into the swing of things, not only because of illness, but also because I have been working up a storm. Yes, I have been making huge strides towards living my dream – I am a work at home mommy. Recently, I was offered an art position that makes me the lead graphic designer for the department I have been working for. I am very excited about this new prospect, but because of this, I have had very little free time to get my blog on. I am now trying to figure out a way to balance work with friends, play, and hobbies. It is no easy feat!
There are so many things that have occurred since my last entry. So without further ado, let me catch you all up to speed.
Max’s Vocabulary:

1. Dada = Daddy and Mommy. That’s right, my son calls me dada.
2. Kitty and Cat
3. Dog
4. Tree
5. Fishy
6. Baby
7. Yeah
8. Hot
9. Dirt
10. Ball
11. What’s that
12. This
13. All done

Max signs:

1. All done
2. Milk
3. More

He can feed himself with a spoon:

And…Max walks:

Life is good, busy, but good. We love this little man and hopefully, I can get better about sharing him more often!
Lots of pictures from the weeks you missed:

A Good Many Dramatic Situations Begin with Screaming.

I am on the verge of catastrophic hearing loss. I know you think I am exaggerating, but I am not! Years of loud, electronic bass enhanced music reverberating off the walls of my tiny vehicle; decibel bursting amplifications at incredibly small concert venues; and ungodly volumes seeping out of the headphones plugged directly into my ears are nothing compared to the ear piercing, shrill war cries of my small 13-month-old child!

The screaming began around the 12-month mark. It started out of joy and as a way to test his own vocal parameters. It also began, innocently enough, with just a cute little high-pitched yelp in the bathtub, or when he was thumping up the stairs.

The stairway is his favorite place to scream. That cavernous gateway echoes like the Grand Canyon, and I must admit that it seems really fun and natural to scream in that space. The first time he screamed in the stairway was when he had triumphantly climbed to the top of that mountain. It was as if he was Sir Edmond Hillary, gallantly braving the beast of Mt. Everest, in a quest for world domination. Upon reaching the summit, he tilted his little head back and let out the most blood curdling scream that little vocal box could let out. It was funny, and we laughed.

That initial laughter may have been our undoing, because his screaming has since morphed into his primary means of communication. He screams to express happiness, sadness, anger, frustration, and fear. He screams when he is playing all by himself. I can only imagine that in his head, he is pretending that he is William Wallace, on the battlefields of Scotland, preparing to take on the British troops. I can picture him, half blue and half white, yelling “Go back to England and tell them there that Scotland's daughters and her sons are yours no more. Tell them Scotland is free,”while he bangs two toys together and screams. 

I am told that it is just a phase. That it will pass. I hope it does. I hope he learns to champion that inner Braveheart and only lets it out on special occasions, and when it is appropriate. I hope he learns to speak actual words, instead of throwing shrieking loud commands our way. I hope that he stops screaming before his mommy and daddy actually do experience catastrophic hearing loss. Although, the silence might be just what this duo needs!

The many faces of Max screaming:

 

It's Only Words...

Most 13 month-olds have very few words, mine is no different. However, my 13 month-old does have some great words:


1. Daddy
2. Mama (my favorite)
3. Fishy
4. Doggie
5. Kitty (his favorite)
6. Hi
7. Yeah
8. Nigh-nigh


That is it for now. He gestures and speaks in jibberish most of the time. If you ask him where his daddy is, he points to his daddy. If you ask him where his mama is, he points to his mama. He can identify fish, turtles, milk, cups, books, toys, and silverware. He signs for milk, more, and all done. But for the most part, he screams in order to get most of his needs met. Oh the joy of toddler parenting.

One Week Later…

Eight days have passed by. Eight days of relearning our places in the world. Eight days of coming together anew. Eight days of intense bonding, all three of us. Where there used to be only two, now there are three. Where there used to just be one that could soothe, now there are two. In the midst of my sorrow, a new bond was forged. In the midst of my darkness, a new light was found. It has been eight days.

Three of those days were immensely painful. I sat in my office, alone. I wrote, alone. I cried, alone. While my husband was upstairs, cradling our freshly weaned child, I sat alone. While my husband comforted our crying baby, I cried alone. On day two, I cried like I have never cried before. Sad, empty, alone, I wept for the broken bond that I would never experience with our son again. On day three, I felt a little more at ease, but I was still unsure of my presence in this new routine.

On day four, I joined them upstairs. I watched as my husband rocked our baby into quite bliss. I watched as my husband sang lullabies to Max and rubbed his head, cheeks, arms, and feet. I watched as my little boy contently fell into silent slumber. I watched in amazement. I watched with joy, pride, and a little sorrow.

On day five, I sat closer to my boys. I rubbed my child’s head, cheeks, arms, and feet. I sang the lullabies that we listened to together. I got to lay my blissfully sleepy child down in his crib. On day six, I held him while my husband sat close to us.

We have started a new routine. A routine where mommy and daddy are equally important. A routine that requires both of us to be complete. In losing one relationship, we have gained so much more than I ever though possible. We have become a closer family.

Eight days have passed by, and where there used to be only two, now there are three. I could not be happier! 

Just before being put down for bed.

Weaning My Heart!….

He wails from upstairs, as if he is being caused the greatest pain he has ever known. I weep here, downstairs. I, too, am experiencing a pain that I have never felt. It is the second day, and both he and I are trapped in this hell. Together, yet separate.

I have provided this child with the only nourishment he has ever known. It is a nourishment not only of food, but also of safety, comfort, and joy. There is a comfort that lies inextricably within the warmth of my bosom. A comfort that cannot be duplicated by any bottle, any pacifier, any stuffed animal, or any toy. It is unparalleled in its capacity to comfort and calm him. It is the only method he knows of soothing. And yet, it was time. Time for this all to come to an end.

I had long since dried up. The elimination of both the midday and morning feedings had taken a toll on my once over-abundant supply. Within the final weeks, days, I noticed that letdown was taking more and more time, until finally, it wasn’t occurring at all. Frustration had started setting in for both he and I. I had become simply a pacifier.

Once this realization had struck me, I set a date. The final date. It loomed over me like an ominous black cloud, yet I had no concept of exactly how hard and fast that storm would rage. I had no idea how much the simple act of feeding my child, from my own breast, comforted and soothed me. For the last 13 months, I had ended the day in the warm comfort of nursing my child to sleep. My nights would now have to be filled with something else. What could possibly compare to the peaceful tranquility of a warm, freshly bathed infant? How would I ever learn to unwind without that little boy centering me back to the earth?

Everyone always expresses how wonderful breastfeeding is for the baby, but no one really ever describes how beautiful it is for the mother. Breastfeeding did not come easily to me, but it is something that has forever changed me. It made me a better mother. It centered me. It became a part of my life that I have come to cherish. I needed the comfort of breastfeeding as much as my tiny infant did.

And so I mourn the loss of a piece of motherhood. I am preparing myself for the long journey that lies in front of me. As he continues to grow; big and strong, smart and worldly, cautious and steady, confident and brave, I prepare myself for him no longer needing his mother to show him the way. For I have already prepared him for what he will face. With each end of a chapter, I am preparing him for the eventual manhood that lies in front of him. With each turn of the page, I am helping to guide him to be the best person he can be. This is that first step. I take it proudly, but I also take it with big round tears in my eyes.

My baby is growing up, and he is taking a piece of my heart as he goes. As he wails upstairs, I cry downstairs. Alone. I know that tomorrow will be easier. But tonight is hard.

A Day for Me! :)…..

Two years ago, this day was just an eventuality. It was something that I had longed for all my life, but not something I had actually been a part of. I had dreamt of being part of a group of people so important that it sparked a holiday just for them. That group that I so desperately wanted to be a part of – Mothers – was all that I could think about. It was my ultimate goal.

Last year was my very first Mother’s Day. I am sure that it was special and amazing. I am sure that my wonderful husband pulled out all the stops for me. I am sure that I reveled in the attention, and basked in the glory of finally being and a achieving my one dream in life. I am sure I had a great day. But I don’t remember it at all.

Why, you ask? Because I had a not yet one-month-old newborn baby. Because I was still laid up from the emergency c-section that I had to have to get my perfect little man. Because – let’s be honest here – I was on painkillers, living in my own little world, and just trying to survive the day on little to no sleep.

So fast forward to last Sunday. It was a magnificently beautiful day. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and I was awakened by the wonderful aroma of my favorite coffee beverage – a Starbucks’ White Chocolate Mocha.

I was handed a present that I had been longing for for ages – The Pioneer Woman Cooks cookbook.

And, I was greeted by two of the most handsome men in the world – Nate and babe.

We spent the morning with my mother and father, eating pastries and enjoying the boy squeal with delight as he shoved each piece of cinnamon roll into his mouth. After a breakfast of wonderful Panera pastries, we got dressed and loaded everyone in the car, everyone being Nate, Max, and I. We headed over to the in-laws for some backyard BBQ and family fun.

It was such a great day. So wonderful in fact that I am always going to remember this as my first Mother’s Day, because it is the first one I remember!

Pictures from the day: