Going to the Library

Since the start of the school year, I have been taking Caleb to the library once a week.  I took him a few times back in the spring, and when Brian went back to work, we started up again.  Its purpose is two-fold:  1)  It gets us both out of the house, fairly easily, I might add, since it is only around the corner, and 2) It gets Caleb familiar with the library at a young age, and since I'll be homeschooling him, this is so important.

We are limited to this corner, at this present time, because these are the only books he can't destroy. When I first started bringing him, he didn't even want me to put him down, but now he enjoys rummaging through the book bins.  He even gets brave and steps away from me and peeks around the corner.  (For him, this is huge, because anywhere else in public he won't tolerate being put down at all.)

He doesn't really open any of the books.  He just likes pulling them out of the bins and putting them back again.  A few of his books that he has at home are there, and he clings to one in particular, which is his favorite bedtime book.

He has somehow managed to fall backwards- twice now- into the baskets.  The first time he hit his head against the wall, and the second time, just this morning, I quickly grabbed onto his jacket and saved his poor head.

Sometimes I read aloud to him; other times I just let him be.  (Honestly, he doesn't even look at the book if I read out loud because he's doing his own thing.)  But it's our little thing.  Sometimes I go through the Dunkin Donuts drive-thru for an iced coffee before we go and so it is a nice little outing. We don't stay at the library for longer than a half hour, and we always make it home in time for Caleb's lunch.

Brian and I both love to read, so we are hoping to instill this in Caleb at a young age.  Every nap time and bedtime routine is packed with fifteen minutes worth of reading, and it is fun to see him love books more and more.

(This book he's looking at is one he has at home.  Definitely his favorite, and the only one at the library he even opens!)

It's A Wonderful Life

One of the ladies at church was gushing over this new shirt of Caleb's.  She said to Brian, "You have some competition here!"  Indeed, he does!  A mother's heart melts when it comes to her little boy.  When Caleb leans in close and gives me a kiss, I am completely twitterpated.  I don't know if God will bless us with another child, but if He does, I hope it is a little girl, so that Brian can experience that daddy-daughter bond.

However, Caleb is no angel.  We are in the throes of toddler-hood, and it is not easy.  He makes demands, he throws fits, and he has even slapped me in the face.

I've been thinking lately how different my life is now compared to what it used to be.  My old life and my new life are worlds apart, and not just because I moved from NJ to PA.  I used to be a full-time, working woman.  I remember when I was teaching, I would often drive to my sister's house after work so that I could visit with my nieces (and for a brief time, my nephews).  I am sure I used to be a little envious of her life, not in a jealous rage sort of way, just in a "I'd like this life for myself!" kind of way.  It was what I always wanted:  to be a stay-at-home mom.  Old-fashioned at heart, I knew I'd always be satisfied making a home.  I could care less about a career.

In those days, I looked the part.  I was polished and professional.  My outfits were sharp; my lessons were well-planned.  My desk was always neat and orderly, never a paper out of place.  In my classroom, everything was where it was supposed to be.

I would dream then about a different life.  A husband, children, a home of my own.  Now that I have that life, it is fun to look back.  I don't miss it, not really.  Sometimes I miss teaching literature, because it is my passion, but I don't miss being a working woman, and that's not because I'm lazy.  (I'm not.)

However, I am a different kind of working woman.  There are many facets to my job.  There are many things on my never-ending "to do" list.  Instead of seventy or so students, I take care of two men full-time, both of whom couldn't do without me.  (Yes, even the big one.)  :)

Perhaps what I didn't know then was how hard it would be.  I love it, but as with everything that is truly worth having, it is the hardest thing I've ever done.  Training a child, loving him, teaching him, molding him- it is hard work.

I had a rough day last Friday.  Caleb and I went to Kohl's, and since it is forty-five or so minutes away, it is a big trip.  I was doing a little shopping for Brian's birthday, and I was trying so hard to rush around the store, knowing I didn't have too much time because I had to get Caleb home for his second nap.  He became very restless on the checkout line, and started to let out a few wails while I was paying.  He calmed down when I pushed him to the car, but then, he charged up again when I put him in the car seat.  Since he had never done this sort of thing before when we've been out, I figured he would stop and calm down.  Except he didn't.  He continued to wail for the majority of the ride home, and I was driving like a maniac, trying so hard to hurry home.  All the while, my head was screaming in pain.

Later that day when Brian came home from work, I was done in.  I said to Brian, "He's all yours.  I need a break."  Brian encouraged me to run down the street and treat myself to an iced coffee, but since it was so close to dinner (I am ever so responsible!), I told him I'd head out on Saturday morning instead.

And so I did.  It wasn't a long trip.  I ran a couple of errands, and I got my iced coffee, and I did it all by myself.  It felt so good to go out, even if only briefly, as just Courtney.  I so rarely get to go out by myself, because we don't have any grandparents or aunts/uncles around to watch Caleb if I have an appointment.  I don't want to be away from Caleb, but sometimes, a few minutes to myself does a world of good.  I came home feeling refreshed and more like myself again.

All this rambling to say that I love my life; I wouldn't trade it for anything.  Taking care of my two guys brings me so much contentment and fulfillment, but I cannot do it without God.  I cannot do it on my own strength.  Thank goodness, He gives me what I need to be the best mom I can be.  These days, I don't look polished or professional.  I grab what's easy to put on and run out the door.  Instead of a classroom to keep orderly, I am forever picking up crumbs my toddler has left in a trail.

Still, I'd rather have this life.  Thank you, Lord, for a wonderful purpose!

Our Mouse-Catcher

It is no secret that I have not exactly doted on our little Pocono.  I am simply not an animal person. The only pet I ever owned before Pocono was a beta fish given to me by one of the girls on my floor in college when I was her R.A.  I named him Boaz (yes, after the awesome man of God in the Bible).

Usually I spend my days yelling at Pocono for various reasons.  Getting on the counters... yet again. Grabbing something off my desk and bringing it upstairs.  Knocking things over.  Recently, he knocked over a very old, glass candy dish that was my grandmother's.  He got scolded over and over again for that one, and it took me a few days to even be pleasant to him once again.

We haven't exactly been the best of friends.

If you remember, we got him after we witnessed our second mouse here in the Poconos.  I thought to myself, "I cannot live with mice.  I do not want to live with a cat, but I'd much rather live with a cat than with mice, given the choice."

We went for quite a while without any issues, which sometimes caused me to wonder if we had done the right thing in getting Pocono.  After all, my life was so much simpler without this creature.

Then came last night.

Brian and I were upstairs in the living room; Caleb was already down for the night.  I heard some squeaking going on by the sliding glass door, and I turned to Brian and asked him what he thought that was.  Birds on the deck, I asked?  Then Brian stood up and said, "I think Pocono's got something."  That something turned out to be a baby mouse which he had brought up from the downstairs.  We let him be for a little bit, thinking surely he'll kill the thing and end the whole dramatic scene, but being still a young cat, he wanted to play and have his fun.  At one point, Brian and I each had a Swiffer in our hands as we were trying desperately to guide Pocono to the deck to bring his victim outside, but our sneaky cat didn't want to lose his prey so easily.  He bounded downstairs, and later he come back up without the rodent.  What happened?  Brian went down to take a look, found nothing, and we were forced to go to bed with towels under our doors.

We woke up still not knowing what in the world happened or if we still had a mouse among us.  We wore sneakers just in case.  We went to Lowe's and bought more mouse traps.  Every moment, I kept looking at the floor for scurrying.  Finally.... finally, Brian went downstairs to do some unrelated clean up, and he found the dead mouse, stuck to a sticky trap we had set up months ago for spiders.  It was also clear that our Pocono had mauled him.  (Thank the Lord Brian came upon this scene, and not me.)

So we gave our Pocono a victory dinner... canned cat food for a change.  We don't know what happened.  No doubt, the mouse was trying to escape his clutches and came upon the sticky trap, and Pocono finished him off.  I was annoyed at first that Pocono didn't kill him straight off, but I had to remind myself that this was his first prey, so he has some learning to do.  (Hopefully not too much, if you know what I mean!)

In any case, I called our exterminators, because we are already in a contract agreement when we had ants this past spring, so we are already paying for pest control anyway.  They'll be coming out this week to take a look around and decide on a game plan.  Meanwhile, we'll still take pleasure in our little protector.

Here's Pocono eating his victory dinner:

Back-To-School Blues

I've got the back-to-school blues.

Whatever for, you might be wondering?  My student days are long since over, and my teaching days have been finished for three years now.  No, I am bemoaning my husband's return to his job.

It's been really hard on Caleb, which in turn, makes it hard on me.  I don't know what goes on inside his little mind, and I do not believe he goes around here missing Daddy all day long.  But- something just isn't right.  He is more clingy; I can hardly leave the room to go to the bathroom, and nap time and bedtime have both become nightmares once again.  As soon as I start to carry Caleb to the crib, the crying commences, and as soon as I lay him down, he is up on his feet, as if begging me to not leave him there.

Folks, it breaks my heart.

Perhaps I seem cold-hearted to continue on my way and close the door on my wailing son, but I know him.  He does not go to sleep with my presence.  I could sit and rock him in the chair for an hour, and he'd still stay awake.  As terrible as it is, he needs to have his cry, and be done with it so he can fall asleep.  Yesterday, one of his naps he cried for half an hour.  I already went through this months ago, so to have to go through it again is discouraging.

I've also resorted to doing more laundry at night, because Caleb can't stand me leaving the room for a moment to go throw a load in.

When Brian came home from work two nights ago, Caleb heard the front door opening and immediately got excited.  We were on the floor, and he started climbing onto my leg, wanting me to pick him up.  I carried him to the entryway, and he was no doubt excited to see Daddy, but at the same time, he decided to be Mr. Shy.  He kept burying his face in my neck, probably wondering all the while, "Daddy, where have you been all day?"  As soon as Brian got out of his work clothes, he grabbed our boy, put him on his shoulders, and all was right in the world once again.

Hopefully, in a couple of weeks, Caleb will be adjusted once again, and I can't wait!