End of an Era

My little sister wrote about this today, so I thought I'd copy her.

In less than 48 hours, it'll be the end of an era: There will be no more Candrians living in our nation's capital.

I'm proud to say I was the first to embark on our nearly decade-long D.C. escapade. And if you knew my shy self growing up, to be the first to move that far away from home was kind of a big deal for me. I never dreamed I would be starting a sibling trend.

About two years after I moved to D.C., Rob made the cross-country trek after graduating from law school in California. We were in the same city for less than a year (I think) when I met a super cute dental student named Brian, dated long distance (a two hour drive anyway) and then got married and moved to Richmond, Virginia.

Less than a year after that, I flew to Florida to help Andrea make the move to D.C. She was leaving behind her television reporting days in the hopes of a brighter future (and more money, let's be honest).

Several days later Amy graduated from BYU and landed an internship in none other than the good old District of Columbia. I don't think Amy ever intended on staying for very long and, in the grand scheme of things at least, two years really isn't long. It was then that she "re-met" her BYU crush turned dental student John, dated long distance (a two hour plane flight) and then got married and moved to Oklahoma.

Andrea, now a big time press secretary on Capitol Hill, stayed behind in D.C. for two more years. But she is currently packing up her belongings. On Saturday, she'll get in her car and pull away for the last time, the Washington Monument and Capitol Dome in her rear view mirror taunting her already with feelings of homesickness, amazing memories, and perhaps just a little anxiety about what lies ahead. You see, about a year ago she "re-met" an old BYU "acquaintance" (we'll just leave it at that) now turned radiology resident, dated long distance (a five hour plane flight) and will be moving to Seattle after they get married next month.

Are you seeing a pattern here? Every Candrian girl's dating experience gets even more "long distance" than the last but the end result is the same. We all end up in totally different cities than we ever imagined, married to doctors. I promise it wasn't our intention. But it wasn't a bad result, I'd say.

I couldn't be happier for anyone. But my heart is also kind of sad with the realization that she's the last one to leave my beloved city. No more ties there (I'm holding out hope that Rob will go back some day), no one left to visit, no one to give me updates, live vicariously through, etc.

So what's the big deal about living in D.C., you may ask?

There is something so special about living and working in Washington: crossing the muggy Potomac River every summer, seeing the White House poke through the cherry blossoms every spring, gazing at the Capitol Dome surrounded by orange and red leaves every fall, and watching the city come alive with Christmas decorations, the National Christmas Tree on the Ellipse and Capitol lawn every winter. It's magical. Sure, our nation's a political mess right now. But the city those politicians reside in has never been better.

I guess unless you've experienced it, it's hard to describe, but that dang city totally stole my heart (maybe more for me than my other siblings, but I know it got a hold on them as well). I feel like I did my growing up/coming into my own there. It was there where I made some of the best friends of my life and I really figured out who I am and what I want with my life. Sure, most people figure that out years before--I was a little late in the game but it was my life and it was perfect for me. For that reason, among others, part of me considers D.C. more my home than anywhere else and I'll always treasure my experience there. I love that my sisters, brother and I all have that in common now (when really there might not have been much else--we're all so different).

My mom always taught us to leave things better than we found them. So, here's to my sister and to the Candrian's near decade in Washington. I'd like to think we're leaving it better than we found it.

Growing Up

I wish kids didn't have to grow up so dang fast. Last night I was telling Brian that in the blink of an eye James went from saying "Geeee!" (his favorite thing to say at five-months-old) to walking around saying "I like you, Mom! You're my best." He used to tell us we were his "best friends" but in the last few weeks it has been shortened to simply "my best." Maybe that's the hip slang among two-year-old circles now days? 

Anyway, James is a hoot. I need to learn to write down more of what he says because we have daily comedic routines around here.

Sometimes he insists on holding his sister. And then he realizes how heavy she has become and insists on her sitting next to him instead.

Here's our little chunkster. She goes in for her six-month doc appointment in two weeks. Holy smokes.

Here she is trying to talk to us. She is definitely an "ooohh" girl. She has also mastered the art of whimpering like a puppy to get our attention.

Speaking of puppies, James likes to ride his pillow pet puppy and pretty much do anything with it but use it like a pillow.

This one's for Andrea. She bought this outfit for Livy months and months ago and it finally fits her.

She's almost sitting up on her own. She could totally do it if she wouldn't try to straighten her legs every time I put her down.

The not so fun goings on around here are 1) Livy has refused to take a late afternoon nap lately (I'm pretty sure she's too young not to have one though, right?) and 2) We're trying to ween her off her swaddle. I have no idea at what age you're supposed to do this but she breaks free of it every night anyway (even those dang Woombie things everyone swore by are no obstacle for her. I bought the "houdini" one that is supposedly the toughest to break through and her arms are out of it within 5-10 minutes). So bedtime with her has been a blast lately. Fingers crossed that we all get more sleep soon!

More Ramblings

I just realized that some of these are kinda negative. So be it.

Being sick. I was sick this past weekend. I don't get sick very often, maybe once or twice a year. I literally had no energy to do anything but sit and stare at my kids and tell James "I'm sorry I can't play with you. If I get up and chase you like you want me to, I will either pass out or throw up on you." It reminded me to be grateful for my health. Being sick with an energetic little boy is by far one of the hardest things to me about being a parent--I can't call in sick and have someone else watch my kids for me (if you have family nearby and can do this, you are totally cheating). What's worse is when you pass your illness along to your five-month-old baby girl. I would take that illness back ten times over to keep her from the agony that is the flu.

Cucumbers. I have tried to like them in the past. Okay, scratch that. I have not tried to like them. Ever. They are nasty, terrible things. Oddly enough, I love dill pickles. Go figure that I got like half a dozen larger than normal cucumbers in my CSA share this week. And lots of tomatoes, which are about the only things that have actually grown in my garden this year and which we have plenty of. Better luck next week.

Shopping. I know so many people who detest grocery shopping. I, on the other hand, find it stress-relieving and I love it. I love it even more when I am doing it by myself, but even James likes it so it's not so bad with him either. Today though, we braved the grand opening of Trader Joe's. Not a smart move on my part. Try maneuvering a stroller, with a two-year-old who insists on pushing it, through a crowd of hundreds of people who have no rhyme or reason to which direction they are going. It was a traffic jam at every turn. I'll probably wait a few weeks before going there again.

Scrunchies. I find it curious how gymnasts all over the world seem to embrace the scrunchy when the rest of the world rejected them decades ago. Over the past few days watching the Olympics, I've seen metallic scrunchies, glittery scrunchies that perfectly match the face glitter (another oddity) the athlete is sporting, scrunchies with butterflies poking out of them, etc. Where are they getting these things? Are there companies that still make them?

Blogs. I have all these grand ideas for blog posts and even new blogs entirely. I get really excited thinking about all the possibilities, etc. And then I look around me and realize that I can't even keep my own house clean, so I should probably concentrate on that first.

Facebook. It's interesting to me, this whole Facebook thing. I think it's funny when people post their every emotions, actions, problems, health updates, etc. It especially intrigues me when I see things like "My stress level is through the roof right now!" or "I'm having the busiest day of my life!" I just wonder why posting about it on Facebook is a priority. I guess this is what our total technology world is coming to, when people on the verge of nervous breakdowns or a health crisis still have to take the time to post about it.

Texting. I hate it. Yes, it is nice when you don't actually want to talk to the person. But it is NOT real communication. It cannot take the place of real human interaction to people you are supposed to care about. It should not count for visiting teaching, home teaching, etc.  (UPDATE: I did not mean to offend anyone who has ever sent me a text. If I would never hear from you otherwise, I do not hate hearing from you! I was just suggesting that texting should not take the place of real communication.)

Grudges. I sometimes get mad for dumb reasons. At people I love. But my anger doesn't usually last long. So grudges I do not understand. Life is just too short. If it's something that is THAT big of a deal, then agree to disagree and move on with it. Why drag it out and let that kind of anger/resentment/drama fester inside for so long? Easier said than done, I know. But none of us are perfect so to hold someone else accountable for not being perfect either is a mystery to me. Life is just too short and family, especially, is just too important.

Families. Speaking of family, my entire family is all together this week without me. Again. It's my fault this time, though. I could have gone but the whimpy part of me chose not to. Flying alone with one kid was stressful enough. Flying alone with two terrifies me and I have to do it in a couple of months anyway.

Flaky me. I am about four or five months behind on sending out baby presents to various family members/friends. So if I've recently asked for your address and you've received nothing and think I'm a total flake, please know that yes, yes I am. But not usually. Just lately. And you will get something if you are patient. I promise.

I just finished reading The American Heiress by Daisy Goodwin. All you Downton Abby lovers will probably get a kick out of it. I thought it was well-written and entertaining but predictable and something about it kind of bothered me. I think stories about women who are supposed to do exactly what society expects of them and who will go to any lengths to get a husband, without stopping to think what they're even doing, get to me. That's probably why I really hated These Is My Words when everyone else loved it.

Cousins

"Cousins are friends that will love you forever."

I knew my entire family, including my internationally residing brother, would be getting together in August in Utah. I also knew that we wouldn't be there. I hemmed and hawed over the decision to go for awhile but in the end decided since we were out of Sky Miles and our millionaire status hadn't exactly kicked in yet (or ever probably) that we would be staying in Tennessee all summer long.

I never expected my brother to email a few weeks ago asking if he and his little boy could stop by for a visit on their way to SLC. It may sound sappy but the thought that he even considered detouring to see us meant a lot to me. After I told James they were coming, every time we got in the car he asked if we were going to pick up Michael. I finally made him a countdown chain so he could get a better grasp on when they'd be here.

It turned out it couldn't have been better timing since Brian was gone unexpectedly that entire week. It wasn't a long visit but we were so grateful to have them and loved every minute with them. James and Michael had a blast together and at one point James put his arm around him and said "Michael, you're my best friend." Cute.

Here are some shots of the less than 48 hours they were here. We also went to this random safari ranch where you drive around and zebras, deer, emus, llamas and other random animals stick their heads in your car windows and follow you trying to get food. It was hilarious (and kinda scary) but we forgot to take a camera to that, so here are other randoms shots:

This is what our world is coming to--sitting next to each other playing iPads. They were both excited to show each other what they were doing on their own iPads.

 Uncle Rob (I just realized I never got a picture with him)!

I told James if he could go an entire week without having an accident during bed/naptime that he could have this Mater bubble blower. He and Michael took turns running it up and down the yard while the other one chased behind. They loved it and I'm pretty sure it wore them out (and Mater out since he hasn't worked since) since they both fell asleep really fast that night.

 Rob being a good uncle and holding Livy even as she spit up all over his watch.

 This was the day they left and we were all kinda sad they were gone. To add some excitement to our day we decided it was time Miss Liv tried the doorway jumper. She loved it.

So did Jamers. He was hoping they also came in his size.

Sadly, it'll probably be another year before we see Michael again. I vow to make it to Israel to see them at least once while they're there though.

Fireman James

James doesn't leave home without one of his precious fire hats. Yesterday he insisted I call him "Fireman James" all day long and walked around in this "fireman" getup. I don't know how he comes up with these things. He also had to wear one of each boot instead of a matching pair.

The other day I was buckling him in his carseat and was getting impatient with him and he looked at me and firmly said "Mom, do NOT yell at the fireman!"

He's been potty trained for over four months now. I was determined to have him potty trained by age two because I knew he could do it and I'm convinced that if I had been more consistent with it, he would have been. He was most of the way there for months and months and then when Livy came along he totally backtracked just like everyone said he would. So we started over in April fully committed to this method and haven't looked back since. He has an occasional accident during naps but we've learned as long as we don't give him much to drink in the couple hours before bed time, he usually wakes up totally dry in the mornings and runs to the potty first thing, which means earlier wake up times, but overall it's awesome.

Since moving into a big bed a couple months ago he still wakes up about an hour before he used to, but naps are finally getting better at least.

He's finally getting to be a better eater. If I persuade him hard enough (i.e. threaten to not give him his beloved chocolate milk or iPad), he'll usually at least try a couple bites of what I've made for dinner and he's starting to request healthier and more normal snacks. Hallelujah!

Just about every day he asks if either Grandpa or cousin Michael is coming to play with him that day or if Pawnka (what he calls Brian's dad--not even sure how to spell it) is bringing his boat to take him skiing. It's always sad when I have to tell him they live too far away. Hopefully not forever though.

When Brian came back from Idaho last week he brought a huge suit case full of his nephew's old clothes for James to wear. One item was a pair of zip up Air Jordans just his size. James thinks he's pretty hot stuff in them.

We go out in the backyard once or twice a day to throw a football/hit baseballs. He's getting quite good at catching and hitting the ball really far. I'm already curious to see what sport(s) he'll really take to when he gets older.

He goes a little overboard with his past-tense verbs. Two out of three times he'll try to add an "-ed" onto an already past tense verb. I always correct him but I get the feeling that he thinks I am the one who is wrong.

"I eated all my dinner."
"He chaseded me."
"I felled down."
"I gaved her a kiss" or "I kisseded her on the cheek."

He's started to get embarrassed. The first time I noticed it we were at Livy's four-month doctor's appointment and he accidentally fell off his chair. The look on his face when everyone asked if he was okay, as he tried to nonchalantly brush it off, was priceless. The doctor probably thought I was rude for laughing so hard about it.
 
He still loves Donald Duck and Chip and Dale. And the iPad.  

Hard

As I write this, I am currently the only member of the Richman family not in attendance at my brother-in-law's funeral.

It hurts to be thousands of miles away from somewhere you want to be, so far from people you want to love and support. What they are going through is beyond comprehension. And though I know nothing I do or say can take the pain away, I at least wish I could be there to put my arm around them.

Because I don't know what to do or where to direct my emotions right now, I'll just post the lyrics to the song my sweet husband is probably currently choking out at the pulpit and hope that my loved ones can feel love and peace amidst the tragedy of it all:

little boy in a base ball hat
stands in the field
with his ball and bat

player of them all
puts his bat on his shoulder
and tosses up his ball

and the ball goes up and the ball comes down
swings his bat all the way around
the world so still you can hear the sound
the baseball falls to the ground

now the little boy doesn't say a word
picks up his ball he is undeterred
says i am the greatest there has ever been
and he grits his teeth
and he tries it again

and the ball goes up and the ball comes down
swings his bat all the way around
the world so still you can hear the sound
and the baseball falls to the ground

he makes no excuses
he shows no fear
he just closes his eyes and listens to the cheers

little boy he adjusts his hat
picks up his ball
stares at his bat

says i am the greatest the game is on the line
and he gives his all one last time

and the ball goes up the moon so bright
swings his bat with all his might
the world's is still still it can be
and the baseball falls
and that's strike three

now it's supper time and his mama calls
little boy starts home
with his bat and ball

says i am the greatest that is a fact
but even i didn't know
i could pitch like that

says i am the greatest that is understood
but even i didn't know
i could pitch that good





We miss you already, Tyler.

A Quarter Year

Our little lady had her four month check-up earlier this week. At her two month appointment she was in the 50th percentile for weight. Just as I suspected, our little chubster has now jumped up to the 75th. As both our doctors have said, "Chubby babies are happy babies"--totally true with both my kids.


I already think she's going to be shy. Sometimes when I look at her and smile she'll smile really big and then turn away like she's embarrassed. It's cute.

The same thing rarely makes her laugh twice, so we're always looking for something new to get the giggles out of her.




She is still my little buddy. She just loves me and I adore it. I always thought any little girl we had would be a daddy's girl. Maybe it'll still happen some day but for now, she's a mom's girl, but probably only because Brian's not home enough to see her these days. Sad.

She's a sympathy crier. If she hears someone else crying , she'll usually start up, too.

She likes to suck on her fingers, which is kinda weird to me since Jamers never did it.




We can already tell she's probably going to be a drama queen. She'll be smiling and laughing one minute and throwing a fit the next. Heaven help us.

She is a talker and I love watching her cute little lips take shape when she makes certain sounds.

She is a gorgeous baby. Her eyes are still blue. Please oh please let them stay this way. Her hair is not quite as dark as it was when she was born.



About every other night or so is a good one. There, so far, seems to be no rhyme or reason to what makes for her long stretches. Since I know she's capable of at least nine, it makes me so frustrated when she only does four or five.

She and James take turns torturing me in the sleep department. If she sleeps like an angel one night, James will be awake instead. If James has a rare morning where he sleeps past 7:30 (this used to be a regular occurrence until he got a new bed) then she is up at the crack of dawn. One morning she slept until 8 and James woke us up at 5:45. I think they are conspiring against me to make sure I get as little sleep as possible so I won't ever want any more kids.

James still loves her to pieces but is getting used to her enough that he also is already starting to get annoyed with her sometimes. Like if she is sitting next to him and accidentally kicks him (cuz, you know, babies kick) he'll say "Stop it, Liv! Mom she's kicking me!"

I love this girl. And that's all I have to say.