My version of, "Why?"

Evelyn doesn't ask, "why?," over and over again. Not yet, at least. What she does ask is, "what's a ...?" Choose your word.

What's a question?
What's a beast?
What's a husband?
What's science?
What's the internet?
What's a part?
What's 'taking care of'?
What's 'a little later'?

It is enough to drive a person crazy. Watching Beauty and the Beast yesterday, nearly every sentence of the movie elicited a "what's a ...?" question. I answer as many as I can, as clearly as I can, until I reach that breaking point. I know she is just learning words and context and innuendo and meaning. She has an amazing vocabulary for her age, and an amazing understanding of how words go together, and this is part of that learning process.

But after 45 minutes of questions, a mother grows weary! 

Smartypants Lew. That is Evelyn's new name.

The pediatrician said she is speaking more like a four-year-old than a three-year-old, and that is evident in the interactions she has with other kids. I think she gets a little frustrated sometimes because they can't communicate with her like she does with them. She spends most of her time with adults, who talk to her like adults, and when she is with kids she gets curt. Smarmy. Sassy. Don't get me wrong, she looooooves kids. Loves playing with them. Loves making new friends. But I do notice a gap between her and the other kids.

When we move to our new house we'll have to find new daycare, and I'm thinking we will go for the traditional preschool route. Evelyn needs more mental stimulation than she is getting at her current daycare (where she is now the oldest kid), and I think she will gobble up new information like a chocolate chip cookie. I'm almost afraid to put her in a most structured learning environment becuase--honestly--she's wearing me out already! I think she is regular smart, not gifted-and-talented smart, but it is difficult to navigate sometimes.

Parenting is such a learning process. What is best for my child? How can I help her become the best Evelyn she can be? How can I minimize pain in her life? What makes her happy? The answers aren't always evident.

How time flies

Did you know that my little girl is 38.5 inches tall? No? It's true. Also 36 pounds heavy. She seems so enormous to me lately. Like her little legs are getting long and thin and ready for running. Her little toddler belly is getting smaller and her face is less round. She is growing up so fast, so unbelievably fast, that I can hardly believe THIS was only three years ago.

I wonder if this is how my mother feels. If the past 30-odd years have been a blur and she can hardly believe I'm a grown woman with a child of my own. That it all feels like just yesterday I was learning to ride a bike or trying to convince her I spoke Spanish.

I'm almost sure it will be just a blink of an eye before Evelyn is racing off to high school, dating, breaking curfew, causing me headaches, growing up. Another blink and she'll have a child of her own, and I'll be a grandmother, and I'll wonder again where all the time has gone.

It is almost 2012. I've almost known Jon seven years. I'm almost 32. Evelyn is almost in preschool. Pretty soon these "almosts" will turn into "once was" and time will have slipped yet again. Every day is a gift, every moment a poem. I hope I can take advantage of the time I have, because it seems to be going so very quickly.

Diet Coke free, and (not really) loving life

I quit soda the day I wrote my last post. Not a sip of brown, caffeinated, carbonated beverage has passed these lips since. I've had some 7-Up here and there, lots of seltzer water, and a little iced tea (gross), but no Diet Coke or Diet Dr Pepper or Diet Pepsi or Diet Root Beer or anything else delicious and wonderful. I do not like life without my beloved soda, but I'll get used to it. I'm pretty sure I'm still going through the phases of grief.

• Denial: Pretty sure I was there for about a decade. I knew soda (and particularly diet soda) was bad for me, but I didn't care. Or rationalized that it wasn't SO bad. Even after I gave it up spontaneously while I was newly pregnant, I went right back to the sauce as soon as I could. Yep, denial.
• Anger: This peaked on the first day soda free. I was not a pleasant individual. I was mad at my decision to give up the sauce, and mad that something that tasted so good had to be so bad, and mad that I was so addicted. Mad, mad, mad. The anger lasted a couple days.
• Bargaining: I think I skipped bargaining. Well, not really. I decided if I wasn't going to get to drink a Diet Coke I might as well get to eat an entire coffee cake. Yeah. Good decision making. Thankfully, it didn't last long.
• Depression: I might be here now. I miss Diet Coke. It misses me. Eating food isn't the same. Nothing tastes the same. Going out to eat is a total bummer because I see the beautiful fountain drinks of diners all around me, and there I sit with my water, or worse (Arnold Palmer). Sometimes I order milk to drink and I feel like a three-year-old. I haven't yet gotten to the point where I feel better without the caffeine (headaches have mostly subsided, but I am still wicked lethargic) so I just miss it. I PINE FOR IT. Golly, I was so addicted.
• Acceptance: Someday.

I'm trying to remember my reasons for giving it up (the aspartame causes cancer and horribleness in tested animals, the phosophoric acid was leeching my body of calcium and hurting my digestive system, the caramel color has been shown to boost appetite and cause sugar craving, and the whole thing is just a giant glass of chemicals). I'm trying to remember that going cold turkey is better than weaning myself because the latter options simply wasn't going to work. I'm trying to remember that this is all for the better.

But now I miss it.

Oh, Diet Coke. You were my constant companion. I'm sorry to have abandoned you, but you were no good for me. We can't still be friends. Good bye.

First Day Of the Rest of My Life

Today is the first day of the rest of my life soda free.

Yes, you read that correctly: Diet Coke's number one customer, a woman who would rather drink a soda than eat a meal sometimes, has given up the hooch.

I'm in hour two of day one. No headache yet (thank you, Excedrin!), but I'm starting to feel a little restless and sleepy at the same time. This is no regular love of soda we are squelching, here. No, this is a full-blown addiction. One I've never actually tried to stop before. I gave up soda for a few months while I was pregnant because it made me sick (along with everything else), but that wasn't "quitting" so much.

So I'm trying really hard to remember my reasons for quitting. Knowing that today will probably be the worst day, that tomorrow will suck also, and maybe the next day, but then it will get better. Knowing that diet soda isn't something to keeps my body running and I can do perfectly well without it. Knowing that this is a change for the better, and if I can keep it up, I will be a healthier person for it.

So send me your good thoughts and self-control. I'm going to need it!

My house (sort of)

The model home pictures of my house! Imagine me living here, with less nice upgrades and less nice furniture. Awesome!



Evelyn wanted to dress like her daddy

Exhausted

I have been exhausted and irritable for two weeks now. Part of it has to do with the mysterious moon cycles and womanhood, part of it has to do with poor diet, and a lot of it has to do with stress.

BECAUSE I BOUGHT A HOUSE, PEOPLE. A HOUSE!

Granted, I had been thinking about the idea of buying a house for the past two-and-a-half years, and seriously researching location and timing and the realities of homeownership for the past six months, but the time from "hey, maybe this is a good time to buy a house" to "sign here on the dotted line and hand over that earnest money" happened really quickly. Two weeks max.

Considering that, adding in a dose of "I'm turning three and I am the boss of everything" attitude coming from my child, plus a dash of general sleeplessness, and I am frakkin exhausted. Every day. All day. Super duper tired. OH, and did I mention it has been hot as Hades around here? Well it has, and I have no a/c, no swamp cooler, no attic fan, which means I am sweaty and ill-temepered and disagreeable most evenings. And tired. Which really just snowballs into a big ol' pile of piss-poor attitude.

("Have an ATTITUDE of GRATITUDE!"  keeps running through my mind. I want to punch my mind in the face.)

Jon has been very helpful trying to help me keep things in perspective. Yes, it is hot, but it won't be in a month. Yes, buying a house is scary, but it is awesome, too. Yes, Evelyn is really difficult right now, but she won't be in 20 years. I want to punch him in the face, too. But that is the exhaustion and stress talking. I don't really want to punch my husband in the face. (More like the gut.)

I used to think I handled stress well. Turns out I don't. Thankfully, though, I have a pretty low-stress life. I just need to get through the next six months without devolving into a pile of hysterical sleep-deprived laughter, taking baby steps along the way, and then I'll be in my new awesome house, with new awesome air conditioning, my super awesome family, and my rotten dogs.