In Abstentia

Dear Readers,
As you may have already noticed, for the past week and a half, the postings have been rather scant. My sincerest apologies. I have been busy laughing with family, witnessing Mother Nature's extraordinary transformation of the local foliage, jumping in leaf piles, singing karaoke with soon-to-be-married friends, and generally having a good time.

I will have regular access to a computer in a couple of days. This will, however, coincide with my taking on the responsibility of caring for 4 children under the age of 3 for seven days, thereby limiting my time and sanity for posting. I will do my best however to update on those rare occasions that my aforementioned charges cooperate enough to fall asleep when instructed.

Anxious to get back to cacklin',
Danielle

Yer Cacklin' Now

Ok. In the last few weeks, a number of you have sent me emails with wonderful commentary, but have expressed regret that you couldn't write your thoughts on my blog somewhere.

Alas, my dear readers, you can!

For those of you that are not intimately acquainted with the blog world, here is a valuable piece of information. On the bottom of each post is a link titled, "Cacklin' Comments." Click on it and go wild! And you can peek at what other people said too! Voyeurism and self-expression all in one place.

Metamorphosis of Moods

Nicky has blossomed. Literally. In the last month or so, his repertoire of expressions has exploded. And they are just too sweet, too goofy, too priceless for words. Have a looksy for yourself.

Look Mommy, I'm a chef! And I drive too!


Maniacal laughter as his sister is dropped off at school and he realizes he FINALLY has mommy all to himself! And this is how Nicky eats....I mean sings into the microphone.


"Hey, you tawkin' to me?!?"

If I Can Make It There....

...I'll travel with two children under 3 anywhere!

We're going home to the Big Apple tomorrow, and I can hardly contain my anxious excitement. I'm literally buzzing with eagerness to step off that plane and plant my feet on familiar ground. I can already taste the greasy, crispy "slice" from Frank's, the old pizza joint that nourished my palette and comforted my soul on many a colicky night when nerves and frustration made cooking an unbearable chore. I can hear the rolling laughter of two women brought together by marriage swapping tales over sweet Italian pastry. I can smell the bison's musty odor drifting up from the open field as I push my stroller past flowering dogwoods and up concrete stairs crumbling under the weight of more than 100 years of zoo goers. I feel the infectiousness of four small children's glee as they giggle and frolick their way through fields of browning grass and trees ablaze with color. And I already taste the creamy nuttiness of warmth shared between dearest friends over a piping cup of freshly brewed coffee.

I was not born there. I was not raised there. I never even attended school there. And yet, New York feels more like home than any place I've ever lived. It is where I left pieces of my heart one year and four months ago...in the smile of a friend so dear that I think of her as my sister...in the laughter of her children for whom I literally gave a piece of myself...in the mystique of an institution where I found my passion in love and in life...and in all the familiar sidewalks, store fronts, and thresholds where I passed into motherhood.

And while the most precious pieces of my heart, felt in the strong embrace of a friend and lover and the sweet tug of small hands eager to snuggle and play, are carried with me wherever I go, I cannot deny that a part of me was left behind. A part that keeps me from fully embracing my new home.

Time to revisit the past, collect up old memories, and bring them back to this new place...in the hopes that it too will someday be, "home."

Oh, and along the way I'll be toting blankies, Cinderella, Eeyore, Thomas the Tank Engine, Curious George, and a whole host of other itmes deemed necessary for survival in the eyes of my dear babes. I love them, but man do they need to learn how to pack a LOT lighter!

"Tawk" to ya's soon.

The Road Not Travelled

It's late. And I'm up. Again. Insomnia. Used to be the kids kept me up. Breastfeeding and all that. Now it's just me keeping me up...which, for the past few days anyway, has been convenient since they both have colds and end up crying out for me or waking up in a coughing fit anyway. At least this way, I'm not roused out of a blissfully peaceful sleep. But operating on 4 or 5 hours of sleep per day isn't good either, and just might explain why I can't seem to shake my own cold.

So what gives? Why the late night bursts of energy spent wasting time in front of a computer screen, giving into the compulsion to Google the names of just about every person I've ever known? Somethin's brewin, but I can't put my finger on it. There are hints of past ills revisited and yet unresolved with just a touch of present day anxiety over where life is taking me. Just today I was telling Doug how I'm feeling, "lost," a bit like everyone else has figured themselves out, and I'm still bumbling through life letting things happen to me. Seems that most days recently I feel more like a passenger in my own life than the driver, or perhaps an auto-pilot....at least where the kids and household are concerned. They and it move right along without a hitch. But me. My life. My drive. It's there. I feel it. But it's so obscured by the fog of daily life that I can't seem to find my way to it. And frankly, I'm not even sure where to start looking. Somewhere along the way, I got married, had kids, bought a house, etc., all things I've always wanted. And yet, lately, I can't seem to find myself in it all. I think in taking the time to build lives for my family, I forgot to maintain and build on my own. So tell me, when you find yourself in the midst of everything you've ever wanted feeling, "lost," how do you find your way back?

(yawn) Oh well. In the meantime, I should put the insomnia to good use and start a business where I hire myself out to take care of other people's children who are up all night with various ills so mommy and daddy can sleep. After last year's month and a half long teething/cold/flu/stomach virus season, I'm more than qualified.

nite nites.

Incidentally

I forgot to mention in the previous post a very important piece of information with regard to Emma's first trip to the dentist going so smoothly....she went with Doug and I two weeks earlier and was able to watch us in the chair. And while she was in the waiting room with whoever was not in the chair at the time, she had plenty of her toys from home to play with. It made a HUGE difference....so much so that when we got to the dentist this time she asked, "Mommy, when are we going to play at the dentist?"

I highly recommend taking your preschooler for a test run when you have your next dentist appointment. Just make sure you've been keeping up with the pearly whites beforehand, you wouldn't want the wee one to see the painful visit my husband had to endure.

With Each Passing Year....

...comes new responsibilities. In this 3rd year of life, Emma has taken on the responsibility of oral health. Well, ok. Who are we kidding. It's been my job since the first tooth came in, and I'm still doing all the work. When she says, "Ok. My turn with the toofbrush, Mommy." What that really means is, "Let me tickle my tongue with the bristles for 15 seconds, and we'll call that brushing my teeth." Lucky for me, she's never been resistant to my brushing, flossing....yes....flossing (almost every night I might add), or otherwise messing with her teeth. Nope, no squeamishness about oral hygiene here. So, I figured her first trip to the dentist would go smoothly, and let me tell you.....it did!

See for yourself.


Flashing the pearly whites in the waiting room, getting to know the wonderful hygienist Kathryn, and getting her teeth polished. Emma LOVED Kathryn. She was sweet, gentle, funny, and all the right things an adult in a potentially frightening place should be to make a wide-eyed 3 year old feel at ease. Emma NEVER took her eyes of Kathryn the entire time she was in the chair.


Look at her eyes....on the hygienist. I'm telling you, the kid was riveted. Finally, Dr. Engel, with the same goofy, gentle, sensitive chair-side manner that Kathryn employed (there's something in the water in this place..."nice ice" or something), checked out her teeth and assured me that we were in for some, "Ortho work on the bottom." Great. And of course, a great trip to the dentist, complete with Piglet toothbrush and oral hygiene education on the dangers of "sugar bugs", wouldn't be complete without celebrating with a big, fat, sugary donut.

C'mon...the kid flosses DAILY at 3. How many of you can say that? The least I could do is give her a donut.